He was officially too old for this shit. But he had no intention of growing up in the near future, and that was depressing the hell out of him. Jesus, was it so hard to fix his life so he could find a guy of his own?
He had just settled down finally when a knock on the door jerked him out of his concentration. He looked up to see Randy lying on the bed across from his, Billy sitting naked on his face. Billy—small, compactly built, with dark hair and big sloe eyes, was returning the rim job by sucking Randy’s surprisingly thick cock, their sex sounds muffled in each other’s flesh.
Damn—he really had gotten used to blocking things out.
“Lance!” Dex called from the landing. “Lance! I’ve got someone here for you to meet. Could you make sure nobody’s naked in the living room?”
Lance looked at Billy and Randy again, his libido waking up in a big way. He probably wouldn’t have participated—he’d been avoiding sleeping with the flophouse guys because God, who needed the drama?—but voyeurism was very very acceptable here, and he could have given himself a big favor watching that.
As it was, he grunted, stood up, and left the bedroom, then padded out into the living room and checked the door to the other bedroom. He heard very specific noises coming from there, too, and sighed. What, was sex in the afternoon a thing now and nobody had passed him the memo?
“Coming,” he called, opening the door. “I mean, on my way. But I can’t make promises about the nak—” It wasn’t just Dex out there. “—ed?” Standing next to Dex, who was rangy and blond and tall and built and constantly flashing dimples because he liked to smile, was a shorter, stockier version of Dex. This guy had the same color hair and the same color eyes, but his jawline was squarer, he had slightly less neck, narrower shoulders, and more attitude. He was built too, but his muscles looked like they’d seen some hard use.
Everything about this not-Dex screamed military, and Lance wrinkled his nose in distaste.
He really wasn’t that great with authority.
“Hi, Dex. Uh… hi, Dex’s twin brother?”
The newcomer rolled his eyes. “Hi, porn star,” he sneered.
Lance recoiled, surprised, and Dex smacked the guy on the back of the head. “Dammit, Henry—it’s this or living in our garage. Take your pick.”
“Sorry,” Henry muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Then, to his credit, he met Lance’s eyes and managed to look a little ashamed. “Sorry. I’m an asshole. This is a bad idea all around. I’ve got a little bit of savings—”
“Did I show you the cost of living around here?” Dex said sweetly. “We spent a couple of hours on it, remember? If you could manage not to piss Kane off with every sentence, the garage might actually work, but you can’t, so mind your mouth. Remember—five guys besides Lance live here. They’re all gay, and they all do the same thing for a living. You may be built, but I’m pretty sure if they all gang up, you’d be history and I could help them hide the body.”
Lance held his hand up in front of his mouth so Dex’s little brother—it had to be a little brother—wouldn’t see him smirking.
Henry closed his eyes and opened them again, and this time when he looked at Lance, he seemed to see a human being. “I really am sorry,” he said. “I’m… I’m afraid I’m not very… what’s the word?” He looked at his brother in earnest supplication.
“Progressive?” Dex offered.
“Yeah. I’m not very progressive. I’m going to try not to be an asshole and likely fail a lot. If you could… I don’t know, don’t kill me in my sleep and maybe give me some pointers, I’d be grateful.”
Lance put everything they were saying together. “Wait—don’t kill you in your sleep? Does that mean you’re going to be sleeping here?”
“Please?” Dex said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll pitch in for the rent, and in spite of being an asshole of the first order, he’ll be helpful. Kane, John, and I can lend him our cars so he can help you guys out, because I know only, like, one of you has a car, and he can help with the plumbing and help the guys fill out their student loan applications—”
“Oh God,” Lance muttered. “That deadline is coming.” It was practically the reason the kitchen table was invented. The last three years, they’d made a party out of it, inviting the other students they knew from Johnnies, with everybody bringing their shit and their laptops and their forms. One of the most interesting things that had happened was Lance had learned everybody’s real names—which was another reason he’d stopped having sex with his roommates.
He knew them as people now.
Dex nodded. “See? He can be useful, and he’ll be running errands for John and me until he can get his shit together.”
“Understood,” Lance said. A loud groan issued from his room, and he grimaced—Randy and Billy were apparently reaching a, uh, climax. There was a stack of shoes in the entryway because it was wet outside and nobody wanted to track mud in. Lance slid his feet into a pair of loafers that were probably his and reached for the coat hook for a hoodie that was definitely not.
“Here, Henry? Is that your stuff?”
Henry slid the military duffel off his shoulder. “Yeah, uh, should we come in?”
“No. Definitely not. Give me that, and you and me can take a walk around the apartment complex, and I can explain shit, okay?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” And that came from the room next to them, where Curtis and Zeppelin—at least Lance assumed it was Zeppelin—were. The fact was, the Johnnies guys got tested regularly, and they knew one another. There was a lot of fucking around in-house because they could trust that their partner had a clear health screen, the other guy definitely knew the score so no strings attached meant no strings attached, and they tended to be friends before, during, and after.
So who knew who was naked in the other room?
Which was sort of what Lance needed to talk to Henry about.
Henry’s blue eyes—the same shade as his brother’s but not as guileless or as innocent—had opened wide. “Are there, uh… is anybody, uh—”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” Lance said bluntly. “Now give me your duffel, say goodbye to your brother, and you and me need to have a little talk.”
Lance grabbed the duffel and threw it directly onto the couch, checked the pocket of his sweats to make sure his keys were in there, and shut the door behind them. Together, the three of them clattered down the stairs, Dex apologizing the whole time.
“Lance, I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t last long, man. I really appreciate—”
“Stop!” Lance laughed as they got to the bottom of the stairs. “It’s all good, brother. You’d do the same for any one of us—and you have.”
Dex shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s no Bobby.”
Ah, gods. Bobby, the big young country boy with the solid heart. That pity fuck Lance had given him had left a lasting impression, actually. When Bobby and Reg had gotten their shit sorted, Lance had needed to stomp hard on his own regret. Sort of like with Dex, he’d been so focused on his future, he hadn’t moved in on a possible here and now.