This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, business establishments or events is entirely coincidental. Comments and feedback are highly appreciated, send to mozlover21@gmail.com. For other stories check out: https://www.patreon.com/mstories
Electricity
Chapter 11.
Andrew
Andrew gently unspooled himself from the still warm, and slightly sticky, tan naked body underneath him. He didn't want to move as he was worried the other man would have another post-coital freak out, but his arm had fallen asleep at an uncomfortable angle, so he decided that he would just have to face whatever mercurial mood Aubrey was going to throw at him. Frankly, he was getting whiplash from the writer's hot and cold disposition. But as he repositioned his body to the side, he noted that Aubrey looked peaceful for the moment, his eyes fully closed and mouth slightly ajar. Almost as if he had dozed off. Andrew took in his full dark eyelashes, his naturally neat eyebrows and shapely nose. Despite his permanently sulky temperament, Aubrey's face had a natural seductive warmth to it. And his skin had the most delicious clean scent to it that intensified even further right after lovemaking. It was the type of scent Andrew wished he could bottle up. The type that made him want to be permanently immersed in it. He felt strangely at home looking at Aubrey and all of his beautiful features up close. It was as if the writer was a safe house full of familiar belongings that Andrew was nostalgic for, and not the empty condo he currently occupied.
"Stop staring," he whispered suddenly, eyes still closed. Andrew looked away hastily, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Then he chuckled, realizing how silly it was to feel embarrassed for admiring someone's facial features minutes after being buried deep inside of them. Minutes after making them moan in pleasure and making whatever creepy neighbors they had adjacent to them hate their guts for being so loud. But Aubrey had this strange affect on him, this ability to make him...give a shit.
"The only plus of doing this here is the fact that you can't run out on me. But...that's the only plus," Andrew said looking around the tiny and grimy motel room. He didn't want to have this conversation right after the amazing and highly satisfactory bonding time they had just experienced together, but maybe it was better to strike while the iron was hot. Because there was no way Andrew was going to let Aubrey stay in this dangerous dump alone.
"You're going to hate on my accommodations now?" Aubrey asked, peeking at Andrew sideways.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what exactly are you doing here? You weren't the one that cheated, why are you not at the apartment?"
"Technically, the lease is in his name." That made sense. Douche face had to be in control of things.
"And he didn't offer to at least let you stay until you find your own?" Andrew asked, silently growing agitated. He wanted to go over and pay Tom a nice little visit. A visit that ended with Tom's nose being broken, or his jaw readjusted by a few inches. But the last thing he needed right now were legal issues that would prevent him from playing. His mother would surely suffer a heart attack if he was suspended from the team.
"He probably had. I haven't listened to any of his voicemails yet," the writer replied sighing, then added, "You know, that's the shitty thing nobody tells you about cheating: the nauseating aftermath of it all. Sure, the initial discovery is bad enough. It shocks you, rattles you up. But then after the dust settles, you have to deal with all the apologies, and the emotions, and the mess of it all." Andrew wasn't sure what he was expecting their pillow talk to sound like, but he surely wasn't prepared to listen to a rant about an ex-boyfriend. Nobody had ever talked to Andrew about their ex-boyfriend's, because once he walked into their lives, he became their main point of focus. He was used to that, he was used to being number one with every guy he'd dated or hooked up with. There was rarely ever any actual competition. So he was confused about the strange surge of jealousy he felt at the pit of his stomach as he listened to Aubrey discuss Tom, right after Andrew had just brought him to a glorious hands-free orgasm. But once again he made the mistake of falling straight into bed with Aubrey and completely ignoring the fact that the man had just brutally split up from a long term relationship. All Andrew could think about was Aubrey, and it didn't seem fair that the feeling wasn't reciprocated. But if there was one thing he wanted to avoid more than talking about Tom, it was having another argument with Aubrey, so he bit his lip and listened in dignified silence. "I mean, I'm the one that got screwed over, so why do I now have to dread the fact that I'm going to need to have a conversation with him eventually. He's proved himself to be a total and complete asshole, so why shouldn't I just ghost him without a second thought?" Somewhere halfway through Andrew had bitterly tuned out, but when he heard the incline in Aubrey's pitch he knew the writer had just asked him a question. He had to think of a quick and all encompassing reply.
"Right, you're totally right," he said, deciding to play it safe. If there was anything Aubrey liked, it was being right.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be going on about my problems. But hey, you came here of your own volition."
"Well, speaking of here', I'm not letting you stay here.' This is literally a hooker motel, you are aware of that, right?" Andrew asked, hoping the other man wouldn't inquire as to how he knew that.
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Aubrey replied in a voice that implied he was two seconds away from getting up and leaving once again. Suddenly, much to Andrew's joy, Prince hopped up on the bed.
"See, he doesn't want to stay here either." Aubrey eased up on his glare.
"Well, when I become a millionaire like Andrew Thompson maybe I'll upgrade to a 5 star motel," he replied and stumbled out of the bed, then headed to the restroom. Andrew knew that his next statement would be shocking, so he was glad to make the proposition with a door separating him and Aubrey.
"Come stay with me," he suggested.
"What?" Aubrey called back from the restroom.
"I said...come stay with me. I have a lot of space and I'm never home. You can work on the Foundation piece with nobody bothering you. And Prince won't get fleas or bed bugs," he said more loudly this time, suddenly looking around and scratching his back frantically.
"You're so high maintenance," Aubrey replied, walking back inside the room with a towel around his waist. Andrew already missed the warmth of his naked body and the softness of his olive skin.
"I'm serious," Andrew said again, then tugged at the towel and pulled it off.
"I appreciate the offer, but we'll be fine here. I'll figure something out," Aubrey replied, naked again. Andrew grabbed his hand and pulled him back into bed. "I have work to do, Thompson," he complained, but Andrew didn't hear a thing, except for the sound of fireworks the second his lips reconnected with Aubrey's yet again. It was pure heaven every single time, the feeling of his soft lips parting and letting Andrew's tongue do all the exploring that he so craved. But just as his mouth was starting to feel slightly sore from the make out session, Aubrey pulled away from him with a serious face. "I mean it, I need to do some work. And you're very distracting."
"I like distracting you," Andrew replied, smiling. But Aubrey was right, it was time to get the hell out of this place. Slowly he untangled himself from the sheets and got up. He put on his clothes, then grabbed Aubrey's gym bag and started throwing the writer's stuff in there.
"What are you doing?" Aubrey asked, still in bed.
"I'm not leaving you here. You can figure out what you're going to do from my place. And you can work all night long if you want."
"Don't be ridiculous," Aubrey started to say, but Andrew had already zipped up his bag, then grabbed Prince's leash and said, "Get dressed, we're going."
Aubrey got up and stood there for a second looking like he was going to argue, but then finally he started to silently get dressed. The writer then followed Andrew in his car to the infamous condo. When he finally had him inside of his place, Andrew felt a rush of little shock waves run through his body. This was actually happening, the thing he'd been chasing after since the day he bumped into Aubrey at the bar was finally coming true. Against all odds, he had made his fantasies come to fruition. He had not only slept with Aubrey Miller--twice now--but he had the writer practically living with him. As great as that was, he knew that he had to be very cautious, at least for now. Aubrey was like a flighty deer, ready to sprint off at any slight sound. Not only that, but now he was also a wounded deer, right out of a painful break up, with next to zero trust in men or relationships and probably with very little faith in someone of Andrew's reputation. So the quarterback knew he would need to take things slowly, ease into everything gently, prove to Aubrey that he could trust him. That his faith wouldn't be misplaced.
But was he man enough for all this? For a serious relationship, open and honest communication, someone who had no problem calling him out on his shit? In his mad pursuit of Aubrey, he didn't take the time to think about whether he was truly ready to take on a relationship that required effort and compromise. But Aubrey was already here, and he wasn't about to jeopardize it all by acting uncertain. Not only that but it seemed far too early to have a sit-down discussion of what exactly was going on between them. Things were so...fragile.
"This is such a bad idea," Aubrey muttered, standing in the middle of the living room. Meanwhile Prince had no problem making himself feel at home as he jumped up on the large sofa and stretched his paws out. "Prince, get down," Aubrey said to the dog who didn't even budge an inch.
"It's okay, he can sit wherever he wants," Andrew replied to Aubrey's surprise.
"Are you sure? He can get a bit...smelly."
"I'm sure. My place is your place, I mean it," Andrew said smiling. Aubrey looked overwhelmed. Uh oh, hopefully he wasn't getting ready to sprint out of the door yet again, Andrew thought to himself.
"Just...spread out your stuff and make yourself at home. I'll go put some fresh towels for you in the bathroom," Andrew said, trying to remember how to be a good host. He was used to kicking men out of here, not trying to make them stay. This was a whole new territory for him.
He hurtled upstairs, grateful that his maid cleaned up the place earlier in the day. Thankfully, his mom had his bathroom stocked with extra toiletries, so he'd never have to worry about running out of anything. He pulled out a brand new toothbrush, deodorant, and some fresh towels and laid it all on the wooden cabinet opposite the sink.
When he came back downstairs he was glad to see that Aubrey hadn't escaped, but had actually unpacked his laptop and was typing away at the living room table. Meanwhile Prince was happily and loudly snoozing away on the sofa. He didn't want to disturb them, so he headed to the kitchen. It was getting late and neither one of them had eaten anything. Sadly, the contents of his fridge were sparse.
He took a quick peek at the writer and tried to figure out what to do. The man looked so focused with work that he just decided to order from four different restaurants in hopes that Aubrey would like at least one of them. Between Chinese, Mediterranean, Italian and good ole American, there had to be something Aubrey could eat. Thirty minutes later Andrew's kitchen island was full of food containers.
"Are you throwing a party?" Aubrey asked, emerging from the living room and seeing all the food.
"I wasn't sure what you were in the mood for," Andrew replied, scratching his head.
"So you decided to order from every restaurant in a 100 mile radius. Makes sense," Aubrey replied, laughing. "Did you seriously order all this for us?"
"Yeah, help yourself," Andrew replied, handing Aubrey a plate. "Do you mind if I turn on the tv, or is that going to distract you?"
"No, not at all," Aubrey replied, putting some Greek salad and chicken on his plate. They made their way to the living room and sat side by side on the couch. Andrew watched the basketball game, ate, and threw some scrumptious scraps at Prince who sat at his feet and drooled all over himself. The dog was really growing on the quarterback. He was a pretty well behaved beast for the most part. Aside from being stubborn and not listening to any commands, he didn't bark or growl. He just chilled. Andrew could get used to it, to having him around. Meanwhile Aubrey continued working on an article--the laptop on his lap--in-between bites and quick glances at the tv screen.
"Come on!" Andrew yelled out as Steph Curry missed a crucial shot, then threw an apologetic look at Aubrey as he remembered the writer was working. But Aubrey just smiled and went back to typing. Andrew turned back to the tv with a strange sense of peace. Midway through the game Aubrey headed upstairs to shower, meanwhile Andrew and Prince finished off the game. Afterwards Andrew grabbed the pup's leash and took him for a nice long evening walk. When he got back in, Aubrey was passed out--face down--on his bed, with a white towel wrapped around his waist. The poor guy seemed exhausted and Andrew was happy that he decided to stay with him, that way he could look after him, help take some of the burden off his shoulders. And keep douche face Tom at bay.
He took off his own clothes and turned off the lights. He then gently removed the towel from Aubrey's body, selfishly wanting every inch of his skin to be available for Andrew's curious hands. The sudden nudity made the writer stir, half-awake. Andrew put the covers over him, then quietly got in bed from behind. Aubrey let out a small sigh of content as Andrew's arm wrapped around his torso and drew him into his chest.
"Bad idea," he murmured in his sleepy state, but Andrew didn't agree. Sure, the timing wasn't perfect, but it would never be. Why waste one more moment when they could enjoy each other right here and right now?
Andrew felt the mattress dip slightly, and saw that the bulldog was making circles at the edge of the bed, trying to get situated. Finally, he laid down at their feet, and in less than a minute began to loudly snore. The quarterback had to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of it all. He couldn't believe that he went from sleeping alone--or with an occasional naked guest--to sleeping next Aubrey Miller and his ridiculously loud four-legged companion. Sure, there were a million questions still unanswered between the two of them, but for now Andrew didn't care about any of it. He felt completely and utterly at peace as he drifted off into a blissful and deep sleep with Aubrey's curls in his face and the smell of coconut shampoo drifting in the air.