Phin looks like I’ve punched his puppy. His gray eyes fill with despair and tears, and it breaks something inside me. “Gael stopped answering my calls and texts. I thought he was ghosting me. I came here to talk,” he sobs, reaching out to clutch my shirt.
My heart aches in a way that makes me want to hurt him, but I’ve already promised myself to treasure this guy for Gael’s sake. I hate that he makes me feel so much, but he’s the connection to Gael I need, and maybe I’m that for him too, so I push all the anger down and treat him gently, grabbing the back of his neck.
“His grandfather died. He went home,” I explain. “Gael should have told you, but I think he’s grieving too hard right now.”
I can’t believe he’s gone incommunicado with Phin too. I can understand leaving me on read—I’m worried, but secure; Gael won’t abandon me. Phin doesn’t have the luxury of two decades of friendship to fall back on, and it’s a shit thing to do to him. Gael and I are going to have words about how he treats Phin in the future.
“Home? Doesn’t he live here?” Phin must not be able to think straight if he’s asking that.
“His family home. Where he grew up. Gael doesn’t live here. This is my house,” I remind him. We moved to the city for college and haven’t yet found our forever homes, so of course we call the places where we grew up “home.” Someday I’m going to buy a house in our hometown, and I’d planned on making it big enough for Gael to live there too, but with Phin—I can’t think about that.
Phin stares at me, his brows furrowed. “You guys live here together.”
I shake my head as I realize that Gael hasn’t explained anything to Phin.
What the fuck, Gael?
“Gael has an apartment close to his work. This is my house. Gael didn’t tell you where he lives?” I don’t need to ask that, but I do just in case Gael did try to explain himself to Phin and there was a breakdown in communication.
Phin’s face crumples as his misery breaks over his face again. “I guess he didn’t want me to know where he lives.”
For a moment I’m genuinely torn between alleviating his misery or adding to it. I hate that I have that impulse. I hate that I would even consider adding to the burden Phin’s carrying or to the pain Gael’s causing. I’m such anassholewhen I’m angry.
“Go sit down. I’ll get you a drink,” I order, walking to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and the better part of me back; these men deserve the best of me, even if it might tear the very heart from my chest to give that to them both.
When I bring him the water, I sit on the coffee table, facing him. “I’ve never been to Gael’s apartment either,” I explain gently. “He only shares his favorite things, and I’m pretty sure he hates that place. He wouldn’t take anyone he values there.”
I offered Gael to live here, but he told me he wanted us to live apart after he graduated college. He said it was because we needed to learn to live independently for a while. I figured he’d taken a psychology course that made him think we had an unhealthy closeness to our friendship, and I went along with it because I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to see it would be easier to just live together. Three years since then still hasn’t changed his mind about where he pays rent.
I didn’t mind waiting for him to tell me it was time to move in together until this very moment. Now I wish Gael had been living with me the whole time because he might as well have been from Phin’s perspective.
Phin stares at me for a long moment, looking for the truth in my face. “That makes sense,” he rumbles before knocking back half of his water bottle.
“I’m going to order pizza. Are you eating?” I had actually planned on eating taquitos or something from the freezer, but Phin looks ragged and the need to feed him rises in my chest.
“Yes, please,” he sobs, rough and ragged, but I’ll make sure he gets better.
“Go take a bath and relax. I’ll come get you when I get back with the pizza.” I stand, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him to his feet. He’s taller and bigger than me, but he’s also surprisingly submissive, which is one of the things I genuinely like about him. I would have gotten rid of him if he was alwaysfighting Gael for dominance. In that case, he wouldn’t have been the right person for Gael.
He follows my orders without protest, and I push him into the bathroom, starting the bath for him as he stands there, staring at the water, lost in his own head. I pour bubble bath into the tub then turn. When I see him frozen there, I rip his snap front flannel shirt apart and help him out of it. I set it aside, then unbuckle his belt and get him out of his work boots. I’ve never undressed him, but he lets me take off every stitch without a single mote of resistance.
Worry fills me as I help him into the bath, but also a ball of arousal forms low in my gut. I’m ashamed by that development. I know it’s not the right time for anything to do with sex, but when he moves because I move him, it plucks at the darkest part of me. The part that wants to take him apart because I’m an expert at it and it would satisfy me to do so. It's the selfish, greedy asshole that wants to hurt him sometimes.
I ignore it, push it down again, and kneel beside the tub on a low stool that Gael bought specifically for this purpose.
Phin sits up while I use a large cup to wet him. I pour Gael’s favorite shampoo into my hand and wash his hair and beard, then I condition him with Gael’s favorite conditioner. As I take care of him, he relaxes slowly, and after making him kneel so I can wash his body, I lean him back with a neck pillow. When he closes his eyes, the pain that’s lined his face since I opened the front door eases, and I decide he’ll be ok long enough for me to run out for dinner.
I leave him in the bathroom and sit on the couch, pulling up the website for the pizza place. I simply reorder my saved favorites, which includes the pizza that Phin enjoys—a meaty meat pie with extra cheese and honey instead of sauce. As soon as my order is in, I pull up my text conversation with Gael and send him another message.
Me:Phin finally came over. I’m taking care of him like you asked. Come home when you can. He clearly loves you, and it would be shitty for you to abandon that. He deserves your love in return, and you know that.
I don’t wait for a reply, and I get nothing, except the text goes from delivered to read immediately. Gael doesn’t respond, and I grab my keys to go get the pizza. The place I order from is a mom and pop shop that’s about twenty minutes from my house in good traffic. Today the congestion is bad enough that I’m gone for an hour before getting back to the house.
After I drop the pizzas on the coffee table, I go into the bathroom. Phin’s snoozing in my garden tub, filling the room with his soft snores. He looks peaceful, and part of me hates to disturb him, while the other, greedier part wants to wake him up to force those big gray eyes to look at me.
I kneel beside the tub, running my fingers through his curly, wet locks. “Hey, pizza’s here.” My quiet murmur fills the bathroom with the low thrum of my voice.
He doesn’t startle and wakes up gently, opening his eyes slowly as I pet him. “Ah, sorry. I’ll be out in a minute.” His groggy voice rolls through the room as he sits up and pulls the plug.
