Note from the author:
This series has a lot of development and buildup involved. There will eventually be very graphic sexual scenes, but if it's wall-to-wall sex you're looking for, this isn't it...yet. Please feel free to contact me with questions, comments or criticisms at st_jimmy88@live.com. I hope you enjoy the story!
--James
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"In the Absence of Light"
CHAPTER 1
Andrew had known the truth the moment he opened his front door. The vacant spot on the driveway where a dented, mud-encrusted Nissan X-Terra normally dwelt had been an ominous preview of things to come, but the very instant he turned the key and pushed open the front door, he knew. Joe was gone.
The house looked oddly spacious now. Nearly half of its décor, a few pieces of furniture and a couple of lamps were gone, the impressions of their various legs and bases still matted into the carpeting. Andrew took a moment to gaze upon the living room, somewhere between devastated and numb, as he saw both the empty spaces and the phantom furnishings that once occupied them; things that were undoubtedly now in some U-Haul truck or storage facility or maybe even their new home. They were only things; it wasn't the loss of their practical uses that cut him like a frosty blade, but the memories attached to each one.
That stained and lumpy futon couch, though hideous, had been just another piece of garbage sitting in a dumpster until the day he and Joe found it and after a single glance at each other, drug it out and into their home. Andrew remembered how he had diligently tried to remove the worst of the stains from the cushions as he watched Joe straighten the bent frame, sweating and grunting with effort as each aluminum bar was coaxed back into its proper place by his muscular arms. Andrew smiled and chuckled to himself as he watched his best friend and roommate do battle with the mass of distorted metal. Joe was happiest when he had something to work on and Andrew was happiest when he was with Joe. Now, all that remained of their joint venture were four circular indentations and a rectangular patch of floor that seemed slightly brighter than the rest.
The two, from the outside perspective, had seemed like a classic case of bromance; just two buddies that got along and chose to live together rather than with random roommates. Even Joe viewed it that way for most of his time there. But for Andrew, it was different. For Andrew, there was a constant bitter-sweetness to their friendship and living situation. Joe was his best friend and most trusted confidant, but he was also the man Andrew had been in love with for over two years. Andrew had always been open about his sexuality with Joe, but out of fear that he would ruin their friendship, never revealed his true feelings for him. Instead, he opted to simply play the role of the loyal best friend and hid his agonizing yearning deep within himself. It was better that way, or so he constantly told himself. Better to be involved in Joe's life in some way than none at all, which is what he was certain would happen if Joe ever knew the truth.
For two years they lived together, cooked their meals together, took turns cleaning and doing the laundry and took care of one another when they were sick. To Joe, it was just what you did with your roommate, especially when they were like a brother to you. For Andrew, it was much more. After a couple months, he began to secretly think of their arrangement as a type of pseudo-relationship. He would sit almost every evening on the futon couch, reading a book, as he awaited Joe's return from work. The familiar sound of Joe's X-Terra jostling over the curb of their driveway and the slight screech of its brakes would send a wave of excited energy through him in a way that he likened to the joy a loyal dog feels when his master returns home. He would simultaneously fight and entertain the fantastical urge to rise and come bounding out the door to meet Joe halfway; to leap into him and feel the strong, protective arms of his friend tighten around him in an embrace that meant more than mere friendship. The sound of Joe's keys as he approached the front door would rip Andrew from his revelry. He would quickly assume a more natural position and pretend to be so utterly engrossed in his book that Joe's return went unnoticed until the door was already open. He would look up from some randomly selected page, greet Joe with a friendly smile that could not betray his feelings and they would commence their nightly routine of talking about their day as they made dinner, ate and watched television until one or both of them decided to go to their respective bedroom for the night.
That was how it went nearly every night for so long and while it left so many of Andrew's needs unfulfilled, he reminded himself that something was always better than nothing. He would smile and laugh and play the care-free, fun-loving roommate when Joe would bring a girl home for dinner or a movie, share some good-natured banter with her to fulfill his duties as a wingman, give Joe a discrete and encouraging smirk or thumbs up before tactfully excusing himself for the night and would either retire to his bedroom or go for a long drive as he sadly thought about what would undoubtedly be happening in Joe's bedroom that night. Joe hadn't been in a serious relationship for years, but that did nothing to soften the blow that the sporadic train of women he brought to the house landed upon Andrew's heart. Still, Andrew loved Joe enough to want to see him happy, even if that happiness wasn't with him.
And so their little world remained unshaken for over a year and a half. Day after day, night after night, it would repeat and both, in their own ways, were as content as the situation could allow. Then, one night in November, Joe brought her to the house. Miranda. Blonde, beautiful, exceedingly intelligent and with an aura of true kindness about her that Andrew all at once respected and feared. This woman would be trouble and Andrew knew that. Not because she wanted to cause problems or hurt anyone or for any other reason than the look in Joe's eyes when she would smile or say something genuinely witty. It was a light Andrew had never seen in them before; a glimmer that could only be described as happiness; and Miranda, not Andrew, had been the one to ignite it.
Andrew had never seen Joe so excited to introduce someone to him. He beamed with pride as Andrew shook her hand and smiled as he looked into the eyes of the woman who had clearly won Joe's heart. Miranda smiled gratefully in return but as she looked back into Andrew's eyes, the corner of her smile flickered for the tiniest fraction of a second. Andrew saw it happen and somewhere deep inside, though he wouldn't realize it quite yet, he knew that something had just gone terribly wrong. She recovered seamlessly and proceeded to talk to Andrew as if they had already been friends. Andrew hated to admit it, but he liked this girl, despite everything. She seemed to genuinely care, really involve herself in you when talking and was impeccably well-mannered. Yes, this girl would be trouble.
The three of them talked for a considerable amount of time, compared to the dozens of previous women. Andrew watched Joe become more enchanted with each passing moment by the angelic features of Miranda. Noticing the time, Andrew managed to catch Joe's eye and gave him the customary good luck smirk before standing, telling Miranda what a pleasure it was to meet her and excusing himself to bed for the night. Miranda rose as well and when met with the offer of another handshake, she brushed Andrew's arm aside and gave him a friendly but oddly tight hug. Taken slightly off-guard, Andrew froze for a moment and looked up to see Joe's quietly chuckling to himself before returning the hug. She pulled back and looked into Andrews face, her eyes silently searching.
"Goodnight, Andrew. I'm really glad I met you. I know we're going to be great friends," she said hopefully.
"Me too, Miranda. Thank you," Andrew replied before heading off to bed.
Andrew tossed and turned in bed that night as his dreams tormented him. Visions of a future with Joe that would never come to pass. The fire in Joe's eyes as he looked upon her: the captivating Miranda. The brazenly friendly hug that had surprised him. And most haunting off all, the smile that had faltered for only the briefest of moments.