Page 21 of Friendly Skies
“I am,” Luis said and made to snuggle closer to Darius.
“Bed. Or else you’re going to be pissy tomorrow.”
Luis groaned, sounding every inch like the petulant teenager he used to be. “I hate being a grown-up.”
“Yeah. I know. It sucks.”
They untangled their legs, and Luis let go of Darius, lifted himself off Darius’ chest and sat up. Darius missed the weight and warmth immediately, but he consoled himself with the sight of Luis stretching his arms overhead. The cropped T-shirt he wore pulled up, exposing his flat stomach and making Darius’ fingers ache to touch the soft, bronze skin much like Luis had been doing to him. He lost himself in a fantasy of kneeling before Luis, trailing kisses across those firm abs, pushing Luis’ shorts down to release his cock, and—
“Sorry?” he asked. Luis had said something.
Luis laughed and got up from the couch. “Guess I’m not the only one who needs to go to bed.”
With a sheepish shrug, he held his hand out, let Luis pull him to his feet, then followed his best friend down the hallway to the bathroom. Side by side, they brushed their teeth, the action familiar from years of repetition, but Darius was still acutely aware of this thing hanging between them and the tension it had created. That awareness made every brush of Luis’ arm against his, every bump of their hips, send a jolt through Darius’ body, and he found himself staring at Luis in the mirror. He loved the way they looked together, how Luis’ body curved perfectly against his own, his shoulders at the perfect height for Darius to put an arm around him, his forehead in the right place for Darius to place kisses along his hairline.
The prospect of a day without Luis at home wasn’t something Darius wanted to think about, and he hadn’t checked to see if Luis was in the condo alone after he returned.
“Everyone needs to redo the flight schedule on the fridge,” Darius said as he rinsed off his toothbrush and put it in its charging base. He pumped a couple of beads of moisturizer into his palm and then smoothed it over his face while Luis turned on the shower because he wouldn’t have time for one in the morning.
“I know. Everyone’s gotten delayed or switched, and Greg’s all over the place, depending on where Holden is.” Luis stuck an arm into the shower spray. “How long do you think we’ve got before we need to look for someone new?”
Darius shook his head. “No idea, but probably sooner rather than later.” He tried not to look in the mirror as Luis stripped, but it was no use. His gaze was drawn to the sight of Luis’ smooth back, deliciously pert ass, and trim legs like a moth to a flame, and he leaned against the top of the vanity to stave off theache he felt between his legs. There wasn’t anything he could do about the one in his heart.
“Maybe we should think about not bringing in a fourth,” Luis said as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain shut.
Darius continued his nighttime routine, conditioning and oiling his hair and wrapping it in a silk scarf, then moisturizing his body with a sweet-smelling shea butter Luis said reminded him of the cookies his abuela made at Christmas. The whole time Luis’ comment turned around in his head.
Unlike when Luis had first inherited the condo from an uncle, they made enough now to pay all their bills, and they both had money put aside. Flying wasn’t going to be a forever thing for either of them, and they’d saved with that thought in mind. They hadn’t talked about their plans for life after they left the industry in some time, Darius realized. Years, maybe? He knew Luis dreamed of owning a vintage shop full of pretty things from the latter half of the twentieth century, but Darius still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He hadn’t known after four years of college and a degree in history either, which was why he’d followed Luis and become a flight attendant.
Luis was still in the shower when Darius returned to their bedroom and changed into a tank top and briefs. He loved their room from the dark green walls to the mid-century his-and-hers bedroom set Luis had found at an estate sale in Palm Springs to the art prints they’d discovered at a weekend market.
Turning down the covers, Darius got into bed and waited for Luis to join him. He picked up his phone and scrolled through social media until Luis walked through the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Dropping the towel on the end of the bed, Luis rummaged through his dresser while Darius prayed for his body to keep calm. When Luis bent over and presented Darius with a prime view of his ass, Darius gave up the battle. He got up from the bed, scooped Luis’ towel up, said hewas going to hang it up in the bathroom, and got the hell out of the bedroom.
Luis was casual about his nakedness around Darius, the same as he was about touching and cuddling. Darius believed it was born out of their early friendship and the amount of time they spent with each other as children. Hot days in LA were often spent running naked through the sprinklers in either his yard or Luis’. That freeness with their bodies had developed into the intimacy of two boys discovering their physicality and sexuality while not admitting to each other who and what they really wanted for fear it would ruin their friendship. They pretended to be straight, wrestled and tussled the way they saw the straight boys do those things, and surreptitiously studied each other’s changing bodies as they grew into teens, still sharing a bed in each other’s houses the same way they had at eight because neither of them wanted to give up that closeness.
Together, they’d discovered how to jerk off and the intense pleasure of an orgasm. If Darius’ were often the product of fantasies about taking his best friend’s cock in his own hands or his mouth or his body, he thought he did a good job hiding his true feelings. Even now, Darius was sure Luis would never guess how much he craved to be more than best friends.
By the time he returned to the bedroom, Luis was under the covers. Darius turned off the lights and got into bed, unsurprised when Luis snuggled up against him. Turning on his side, Darius wrapped Luis in his arms and smiled when Luis let out a sigh.
“Better, chico?” Darius asked.
“Always,” Luis answered and wiggled his ass against Darius.
Darius put his hand on Luis’ hip to stop his movement. He let his hand rest there, resisting the urge to caress Luis’ smooth skin, to outline the jut of his hip bone, and…Darius cut off his train of thought. Those thoughts led only to frustration and heartache.
“I wish I didn’t have to fly out in the morning,” Luis said.
Although he had suspicions about why Luis had said that, Darius decided to play it cool. “Why?” he asked.
Luis shifted, creating a bit of space between their bodies. “I hate arguing with my mom. And I hate leaving without a chance to say I’m sorry.”
“Text her in the morning and let her know.” Darius nudged Luis with his knee. “Anything else, chico?” The way Luis curled in on himself confirmed what Darius suspected. Luis’ blowup with Rosa hadn’t just been about Andrés. “You know you can tell me anything, and I’ll still love you.”
“I know.”
With a huge sigh, Luis rolled over and faced Darius. He raised a hand to Darius’ face and traced the lines of his cheekbones, his lips. Luis’ fingers stroked the side of Darius’ neck, pressed into the hollow where Darius’ shoulder and collarbone met. Darius closed his eyes because the intensity of Luis’ gaze scared him. Not because of what he feared Luis would say but because of whathemight. Luis’ emotions were right on the surface, and they’d brought the need to protect and defend him to the forefront for Darius. His friend was hurting, and he’d do anything he could to make that pain go away.
Luis snuggled into Darius again, this time facing him, and tangled their legs together. “I’m good, though, Dar. I promise.”
