The Amazon Driver

[Altrdtl]

So this happened Monday and I have not stopped thinking about it since, so I'm putting it here.

I'm 23, I drive for Amazon. Dreads, tatted up, built decent — I stay in the gym. My route that morning had me on the rich side of town, the kind of neighborhood where the lawns look like carpet and everybody's house sits way back off the street. Last stop before I had to run the van back to the depot.

Two story white house. Garage door wide open. White F-150 in the driveway. And inside the garage there's a man at a table saw, shirtless, sweating, cutting wood. White guy, sandy brown hair, built like a house himself — broad back, big shoulders, sawdust all over his arms and chest. The saw was screaming so he didn't hear me the first time I called out.

He kills the saw and turns around and just looks at me. Slow look too. Uniform, package, all of it. He wipes his hands on a rag and goes, "Delivery for me?"

Package said Destin Bucker. That was him. Destin, 27, carpenter, does woodworking out of his garage. When I handed him the box our fingers brushed and neither one of us was in any kind of rush to move. He sets it down, looks around, kind of laughs at himself standing there with no shirt, and goes, "Cold out here. Come in a sec, get out the wind."

I went in. Of course I went in.

He had a folding chair under the workbench. I sat. He didn't go back to cutting — he leaned on the bench with his arms crossed and we just talked, and the whole time he's looking at me and I'm looking at him and nobody's pretending otherwise. I told him "Damn, you nice," and he laughed and said he tries to keep himself presentable. I told him I meant the welcome, but yeah, him too. He steps closer, bare feet on the concrete, asks what I do besides deliver packages to handsome men. I said: work out, fuck, eat. Name's Ant. That got a real laugh out of him.

He touches my arm. Then the side of my neck. Just testing. I asked him what he got delivered and he said tools, he likes to keep his hands busy, good way to unwind. Asked if he had a wife, kids — no wife, no kids, just him and his tools, keeps to himself mostly. He said he likes the quiet but he likes the company too, and the way he said company it was not small talk anymore.

Then he says he's got real coffee inside, not gas station stuff, and do I have time for a cup. I looked at my phone. The depot was not going to close because I took ten minutes. I said let's make it quick.

He puts on a white tank top — didn't help, the tank fit him like it was painted on — and takes me into the kitchen. Granite counters, big farmhouse sink, coffee already made. We drink coffee and he asks where I like to work out and I say anywhere, and he starts flexing slow, showing off, talking about how some places are about the grind and some are about getting a good sweat in, and the whole time his eyes never leave me.

Then he looks at me sitting there and goes, "You look like you could use a rubdown. All that hauling, your shoulders gotta be wrecked."

Fellas. He has a massage table. Set up in the middle of his living room, towels stacked next to it, like it's just a normal thing in his house. I asked him if he massages all his delivery people and he said only the ones who look like they could use it.

I took the thermal off and got on the table and I am not ashamed to say this man has the best hands I have ever felt on me. Carpenter hands. He poured the oil — lavender something — and went to work on my neck and shoulders and found every knot I owned. I was groaning out loud and did not care. He told me to breathe out, that I was holding my breath, and when I did my whole back went flat. His hands went down my spine slow and steady and at some point they went past my lower back and his fingers hooked my waistband and pulled my pants down, slow, giving me all the time in the world to say something. I did not say anything. Cool air, then his warm hands on my ass, kneading slow and heavy, and he's leaned over me with his chest against my back going "You really don't skip leg day, do you?"

I told him it might be the greatest tip I ever got since I started this job. He laughed against my back, worked my legs, worked my spine one more time, and then he made me get up before I fell asleep on his table.

I get dressed and he watches me get dressed. Does not look away, does not pretend. Then he goes, "You gonna give me your number or you gonna stand there looking like you want another round?" I handed him my phone. He typed his number in himself and put a wink emoji next to it. I told him I'd probably come back by later if he was still up and he said he'd be there, leaving the light on for me.

So I go back to the depot, drop the van, go home, shower. My roommate's at the warehouse. I'm standing in my bathroom with water still dripping off my dreads, replaying the whole thing, and my phone buzzes. Destin. "Still thinking about them knots in your back lol." Then: "You still owe me for that massage btw. Send me a pic. Let me see what I was working with this morning."

I sent the pic. Grey pajama pants hanging low, mirror still fogged, I wiped a circle clear and took it. He wrote back damn near instantly. "Damn. Now I see what I was working with. You still got time to come back over today? I got the saws fired up. Could use another practice model."

It was 11:15 in the morning. I had hours before I owed anybody anything. I put on black cargos and a tight black tee and walked back over there. He texted me the door was unlocked and the garage was open. He was in the kitchen with fresh coffee, tank top riding up, barefoot, and when I asked about that second massage he set his mug down, came up close, touched the hem of my shirt and said he was thinking we skip the table this time. Go straight to the good stuff.

I was not about to argue with the man.

We stripped right there in his kitchen in the sunlight. He's even bigger out of the tank top. He got his hands on my chest, thumbs working my nipples, then his mouth — tongue, sucking, a little bite that went straight through me. I had my fingers in his hair holding him there and my hands full of his ass, and he squatted down in front of me with his ass out and kept going until he looked up at me and said "Ant, I need you."

So I took him in my hand. Thick, heavy, hot, hard as a rock. I stroked him slow, took my time with it, thumb over the head every pass, and watched him fall apart. His hips started pushing into my hand, his fingers dug into my hips, and he came hard right there in my fist, groaning, spilling all over my fingers. I worked him through it till he was shaking.

He stands up, kisses me soft — first kiss of the whole thing, after all that — and then he tells me he wants to see me dance. I said what dance. He points at the living room. This man has a pole in the corner of his living room. He pulls a stack of hundreds out of his wallet, fans them on the coffee table, and says a dollar for every move that turns him on.

So I danced. Naked, in the sunlight, in this man's living room at noon on a Monday. Spins, slow rolls up the pole, upside down tricks — my core does the talking. Bills started hitting the floor. He was hard again already watching me, stroking himself on the couch in time with me, and I stroked myself while I circled the pole and kept my eyes on him the whole time. I took the room over. When I finished it was all over his chest and abs and he was coming apart underneath me at the same time.

After, he just held me. Fingers in my dreads, stroking my hair, both of us catching our breath, and he goes, "You're incredible. I've never seen anyone move like that on a pole."

I got dressed slow. He watched that too. At the door he told me I better come back, that he's got a lot more to teach me. I told him I'd hold him to that.

I walked home with the sun going down and his number in my phone. I deliver to that neighborhood every week. Every single week.

To be continued...

 

[Altrdtl]

Ant

Destin

 

[Altrdtl]

Chapter Two

So I'm the roommate. Javon. Ant told y'all about Monday. What he didn't tell y'all is what happened that night, and I know because I was there for the whole thing. This is my side of it.

I come through the door at like ten to four and the warehouse is still all over me. Grease on my vest, oil on my face, boots loud on the floor. I been up since four, at the warehouse by five, unloaded a whole truck damn near by myself. I walk in ready to fall face first into a plate and the whole apartment smell like bleach and lemon and garlic. Takeout boxes gone. Controllers stacked. Somebody cleaned my whole life up while I was at work.

Ant on the couch in a fresh grey sweatsuit, dreads tied up, looking pleased with himself. I'm like who died and went to heaven. Why it smell like a five star restaurant in here. Who you cooking for. He talking about "us, sit down bro." Since when.

So we eat and I'm running my mouth like I always do, telling him about this girl from the club last week, full movie, high quality. Ant quiet. Ant always quiet but this was a different quiet. Man was glowing. You cannot hide a glow from somebody who share a bathroom with you.

I'm like you been real quiet. Cooking, cleaning, sweatsuit fresh. You got a new little friend keeping you busy. He gon sit there and say "nah just work, no bitches."

I said man stop lying. You too damn clean.

He tried it too. Talking about some "I know I look good as fuck right." Boy. Eventually he folded because I told him we don't gotta keep secrets and I meant that. So he told me. A guy. Destin. Woodworker, own business, big white house in the rich neighborhood where the grass actually green. Confident, don't waste words. Different.

Then this man reach in his pocket and fan out a stack of hundreds at me. Just enough green showing. I stopped chewing mid bite. I'm like you robbed somebody. He like nah. He ordered something, I delivered it, he liked what he saw. Next thing he know he on the man massage table getting worked over. I laughed till the couch shook I'm not even gon lie.

But here's the part that got me. Destin name keep lighting his phone up and Ant just sitting there deciding how long to make the man wait. Ant don't chase nobody. Ever. I seen it on his face though, he cared, and he knew I seen it.

He pick the phone up. I'm like you finna call him right now. He said nah. Not unless you do it with me.

I leaned all the way in. Oh you serious. You really tryna put me in your business. He grinning talking about "group project, you always talking about your movie shit, come see how a real movie look. Man got a whole pole in his living room." I looked at where them hundreds was at. I looked at my roommate who cooked for me and cleaned for nobody asking me to actually know him. I said man you wild. Aight. Call the man. Let's see what kinda vibe we walking into.

He called him. Destin picked up on the second ring. Ant standing in the kitchen with his back to me, hand flat on the counter like he steadying something, nodding twice. Smiling in his shoulders before it even hit his mouth. He turn around like, he said come through. Both of us. Nine o'clock. Garage gon be open.

I said give me twenty minutes. I am not walking in a rich man house smelling like a loading dock.

I showered like I meant it. Let that whole shift come off me. Stood in front of the mirror after and did inventory. Braids pulled back clean. Ink across my whole chest, lion sitting over my heart on the left side, script running across the right. Both arms sleeved all the way down, ink over my stomach and ribs. Chain on my collarbone where it belong. Grey sweatpants, black tee that fit like it was warned about me. I took that pic in the locker room at the gym so y'all can see what Destin was working with. That's attached. Don't say I never showed y'all nothing.

Ant looked up from tying his shoes and did a slow take. "Like the rent just got easier to swallow." Boy shut up and come on.

The rich neighborhood at night is a whole other country. Porch lights everywhere, lawns dark and perfect, street quiet as a church. The two story white house lit up from inside and the garage wide open just like he said. Shop washed in yellow light, sawdust smelling sweet in the cold air, fresh pile of wood curls under the bench.

Destin at the workbench holding a piece of cedar. White tee, sleeves pushed up, forearms dusted. He look up when our shadows hit the light and his eyes did exactly what Ant said they do. Slow measure. Only tonight it's two of us and I watched that measure happen to me in real time. Braids, build, ink at my neck and arms where the tee gave up.

He set the cedar down careful. "So this the roommate. The famous Javon."

I said ain't famous. Yet.

He laughed and came around the bench and shook my hand like a carpenter, full palm, real squeeze, and held it one breath longer than a handshake need. Hand warm, rough, not rushing nothing. "Destin. Call me Buck if the formalities get heavy." Then he look at Ant with his hands in his pockets. "You ain't tell me he was built like the warehouse itself."

Ant talking about you ain't ask. You said bring him.

"I did, didn't I." He let my hand go slow. Asked if we past coffee. I told him we past introductions, Ant been home talking about your magic hands three times an hour. Ant looked at me like he wanted me dead right there in the driveway. Destin grin went slow like a man whose reputation walked in the door before he did. He tipped his head at the house. Table in the living room. One pair of hands though, so somebody gotta go first and somebody gotta watch. House rules. Guest picks.

I said guest ain't watching. Guest been unloading trucks since five in the morning. Guest first.

He put his hand flat between my shoulder blades and steered me through the door and the heat of that palm through my shirt rearranged something in my spine that twelve hours of freight put there.

Living room warm and dim, one lamp on, the pole in the corner catching a line of gold. Massage table sitting there like regular furniture because in that house it is. He poured the oil, lavender something, the same smell Ant came home wearing like evidence. "Shirt. Let's see what I'm working with."

I pulled it off in one motion and the little silence after did all my talking for me. I lay face down and his hands hit the base of my neck and the whole day started leaving my body. The truck, the cold, the four in the morning alarm, all of it came out in a sound I didn't even try to hold.

He working down both sides of my spine with his thumbs, slow, appreciative, talking about my ink. "Lion over your heart. That for somebody or that's just you." I told him that's just me. King of my own shit. He like mm. King carrying a lot of tension for a man on a throne. Then his hands went lower and untied every knot freight tied that morning one by one like he had all night.

Behind me the chair creaked. Ant. Watching. And it should've been weird and it was the furthest thing from weird. Ant carried that man hands home on his skin all day. He cooked, he cleaned, he glowed, and then he brought me into the room where it happened. The bringing was the point. Face down on that table I understood my roommate better than five years of him being quiet. This was him saying the truest thing he own out loud the only way he know how. Showing me.

Destin worked down. Hips, thighs, oil warm, pressure deep. Thumbs hooked my waistband and paused, one breath, the moment it could still stop. Then he pulled my sweats down slow and the cold air came in and his hands came right after it and I stopped holding my sounds in entirely.

Ant from the chair, quiet and wrecked and proud all at once. "Told you. Magic hands."

I said shut up and learn something and Destin laughed against my back and turned me over.

After that it went the way weather go. All at once, every direction. Destin mouth unhurried like everything else about him, carpenter patience on a whole new material. Ant off that chair and in it, dreads loose, hands everywhere they got invited. They traded me back and forth between hands and mouths and low instructions till the table gave up its job and the rug took over. I talk for a living at home. I got a story for everything. I ran out of words somewhere against Destin shoulder and just held on and gave back everything I got with interest till all three of us came down out of it in stages on that rich man floor breathing like the end of a shift.

Nobody performed after. Destin brought water. Ant sat against the couch with his head back smiling at the ceiling like it owed him money. I'm on the rug with my chain stuck to my chest looking at the pole catching lamp light.

Destin got a cold coffee in his hand looking at me over the rim. "Roommate verdict. Magic hands. True or false."

I said true. False advertising on one thing though. Ant said you had a lot more to teach. That was one lesson. I'm counting.

He grinned and looked at Ant. Ant looked at the ceiling and refused to help anybody. "Then come back Friday," he said. "Both of you. I'll fire up the saws." Drained that cold coffee like a toast. "Door code my problem. Not yours."

We walked home through that sleeping neighborhood a little before midnight. Two shadows on rich people streets. My whole body loose in a way no paycheck ever bought me. Halfway down the block Ant go "movie shit huh."

I laughed quiet so I ain't wake the lawns up. Aight. Aight. Your movie better.

He said Friday.

I said Friday. And I meant it like a shift I volunteered for.

To be continued...

 

[michaelnola]

Hot and intense--great writing and characters.

 

[Altrdtl]

Hot and intense--great writing and characters.

Appreciate the feedback

 

[Altrdtl]

Chapter Three

Aight so Javon told y'all his side of Monday. Now let me tell y'all about Friday. Because Monday was the invitation. Friday was the answer.

Thursday night first. Our apartment smell like burnt popcorn because Javon cannot be trusted with a microwave. He standing over the trash can shaking the bag like the bag owed him money. "You see what you did. You said ninety seconds. It needed sixty." I said I said don't walk away from it and you walked away. He talking about he was getting the drinks. Sir you walked away from the popcorn to go get drinks that was already in the fridge. This is the man I share a lease with.

TV on low, some game neither one of us watching for real, and my phone light up in my hand.

Destin: Don't forget tomorrow. 9 PM sharp. Both of you. -D

I showed Javon. He squinting at my phone like it was written in cursive. "Sharp huh. Man got a whole schedule planned out. You think he got some new lessons lined up for us?" I typed back "Sharp? You sure about that?" because I like testing that man a little. He earned it Monday. Phone buzz back maybe thirty seconds later.

Destin: Sharp as a tack. Don't test me on this one, Ant.

Sharp as a tack. Javon repeated it out loud like he was tasting it. "Man this dude got some confidence." I said that's what make him interesting. Javon threw the dead popcorn away and that was that. We never even made it to our beds that night. Action movies back to back to back and somewhere in the middle of the third one we both just switched off on the couch like somebody cut the power.

Friday. 5:40 in the morning. I wake up tangled.

Javon arm flung over the back of the couch. My leg hooked over a cushion that gave up on life hours ago. TV done went dark by itself. My neck was filing complaints. Javon woke up stretching and groaning, talking about "man I'm beat, you think you can handle the morning shift without me." I said nah man get some rest, I got the morning solo. He flopped right back down. And that's when I seen it. The chain. Still on. Square pendant sitting right in the dip of his collarbone where he slept in it all night.

I said yo take that off, you don't wanna get caught sleeping in that at work. He gon play with it, hold it up to the light like it's an heirloom. "This my good luck charm Ant. Can't sleep without it. How I'm supposed to keep my game tight without my jewelry. Or is that just a rule for the rich folks we hanging with now?" I said whatever man, just don't let it snag on a pallet and rip your neck off. He ain't answer. Man was asleep again mid sentence.

I left him there and went and got in the shower.

Now. Y'all gotta understand what happened next because it set the whole day on fire. I get out the shower, steam everywhere, wipe me a clean circle in the mirror with my palm. And I don't know what came over me except I do know, it was Friday and it was 9 PM sharp in the back of my head already at 5 in the morning. So I took a pic. Planted my feet, let the abs do what they do, green and grey plaid pajama pants hanging low, dreads up and out wild because I ain't tie them back, ink across my whole chest and both arms, chain sitting on my chest catching the light. No caption. Caption would've been begging. I just hit send.

Phone on the sink. Towel around my waist. Apartment quiet, just Javon breathing on the couch dead to the world and a car starting up outside. Then my phone buzz.

Destin ain't send no text back. Destin sent a photo.

I opened it and forgot where I was standing.

His bathroom. His mirror. That man is huge in a way a picture almost can't hold. Heavy pecs, thick arms, stomach solid, built like the house itself got jealous and made a man. Wavy sandy brown hair all tousled, beard full and dark, hair across his chest and his stomach and down his forearms, skin fair and flushed from his own shower. White towel low on his hips and he holding the corner of it in his fist like he was deciding something about that towel and I was not prepared for the decision making process. I stared at that photo longer than I'm ever admitting out loud and my body had its own opinion about the whole thing before my brain caught up.

I typed back the truth. "Hungry for more than food." Sent it before I could get cute and edit it. Front door busted open right then, Javon coming up the hall heavy in his rumpled flannel, and I had to fix my whole face before he rounded that corner. He still caught me though. "Damn Ant. You sure you ready for work looking like that?" I said I'm always ready for work Javon, even if it's just looking good. He talking about am I trying to seduce all my customers today. Boy if you only knew. The customers were the least of my ambitions that day.

Work was work. Both of us, all day, in different uniforms carrying the same 9 PM in our pockets. Me hauling boxes up rich people stairs with my hand drifting to my phone every third stop like the photo was gonna change. Javon in that warehouse moving freight since before the sun clocked in. Long day. Long long day.

1:54 PM I'm in the depot break room and my phone go off.

Destin: Shift over? Garage's open. Door's unlocked. I got the saws fired up and a fresh pot brewing.

Read it twice. Clocked out so fast the time card machine sounded satisfied. Went home, showered the depot off me, we ate something quick standing up because sitting down felt like a lie, and then Javon went to get ready.

And I need y'all to see what I seen, because Monday Javon let Destin's hands tell his story but Friday Javon dressed his own self for the sequel. Bathroom door half open, man doing inventory in the mirror like he checking equipment before a shift he volunteered for. Braids pulled back clean. Built like the warehouse itself, we been knew that, chest and shoulders and arms carrying every truck he ever unloaded. Ink covering his whole chest and torso and both arms, the lion sitting over the left side of his chest right over his heart, script running across the right. Gold chain on, square pendant where it belong. Grey sweatpants, black tee that fit him like it had been warned. That's the pic attached. Don't say we never showed y'all nothing.

He caught me looking in the mirror and grinned at my reflection. "Like the rent just got easier to swallow." I said boy shut up and come on.

Javon drove. Grey Corolla rental smelling like pine air freshener and the last man's cigarettes, and Javon talks when he nervous, so Javon talked the whole ride. I'm in the passenger seat quiet and he cannot stand it. "You keep checking that phone like it's gonna change. It's the same message bro." I said shut up and drive. "I am driving. You shut up and sit there being nervous." Turn signal clicking loud as hell in that little car. "This man got you texting like a high schooler. Look at you." I said I'm not nervous. "You been quiet the whole ride. You talk the whole ride. That's your thing, you talk. Tonight you over there composing poetry."

I looked up and I ain't even argue because he wasn't wrong. "What's it look like Javon. I'm just excited to see him again." He snorted, took the turn onto Destin street. "Yeah right. You practically vibrating in your seat." I said maybe I am a little hyped. He got a way of making me feel seen, you know. Javon face went thoughtful under all that talking. "I get that. There's something about him huh. Like a whole other level of confidence."

9 PM. Sharp. We pulled in his driveway and I understood the assignment all over again.

House lit up from the inside, windows warm. White F-150 in the garage, door wide open, light spilling out on the concrete just like Monday night. And from inside, the saw. Steady whine of it. That man was in his shop working at 9 o'clock at night with us coming, like his hands don't know how to be idle, like Friday night was just another piece of cedar to him until we walked into the light.

Javon killed the engine talking about "man you sure you ready for this, cause I'm bout to walk in this man house smelling like pine air freshener and stale Doritos." I said ain't nobody said you gotta smell like sawdust to get in. We got out. Gravel crunching. Saw getting louder with every step, steady, rhythmic.

Destin at the workbench, dark wood clamped down, white tank top clinging to him, arms shining with sweat, sawdust in the hair on his forearms. He cut the saw when our shadows fell in the doorway and the quiet after it was heavy enough to lean on. He turned around and his eyes found me first. Slow grin. Knowing grin. The photo from that morning was sitting right there in his face, he had been carrying it all day same as me. Wavy hair tousled, beard full, and he measured me top to bottom with no rush in him at all, then did the exact same thing to Javon, and I watched Javon chest rise under it.

Javon cleared his throat. "Yo. We bringing that sharp energy you talked about or what?" Destin wiped his hands on that rag from his back pocket, grin going wider. "Yeah yeah. Come on in. Saw's on break for now." One more look at me before he turned for the door. "Grab whatever you want from the fridge. I got cold drinks."

We followed him in. He did not make it to that kitchen.

Hallway. Lamp light coming out the living room. And Destin stopped, reached for the hem of that tank top, and pulled it off in one motion, tossed it on the floor like it offended him. Then the pants. Slid them down, stepped out of them, two seconds, done. Standing in his own hallway naked as the day somebody made him. Heavy pecs, thick arms, stomach solid, hair across his chest catching the lamp light, skin flushed from the garage. Y'all seen the towel photo. Now take that man out the phone and put him in a hallway where you can feel the heat off him from three feet away. That's different. That's a whole different math problem.

Me and Javon froze. Javon mouth was open a whole second before he remembered to close it. He looked at me like you seeing this and I looked at him like I been seeing this since Monday, catch up. Destin ain't say one word. Just looked over his shoulder at us with them dark eyes, challenging, and walked up the stairs barefoot, silent on the hardwood, expecting to be followed.

We followed. Clothes coming off on the stairs, in the doorway, didn't matter where they landed. Three grown men standing in that bedroom in the lamp light with a king bed behind us and the whole week in the room with us. A delivery. A massage table. A stack of hundreds. My roommate told the truth. Friday, kept.

Now I'ma tell this part plain because it's the part y'all actually came back for.

Destin ran that room like he run his shop. Hands first. Everything measured. Nothing rushed till he decided it was time. One hand on my face, rough carpenter fingers on my cheek, and I leaned into it like a fool. Other hand on Javon hip pulling him in till Javon chest was pressed to his side, then sliding down and grabbing Javon ass, kneading it slow, and Javon tipped his head back and made a sound he did not authorize. Javon hands went up on Destin shoulders and held on. Destin hand come off my face and dragged down my chest, flat over my ink, thumb across my nipple, and my whole body answered that man like it had been waiting on the question.

So I put my mouth on his chest. Sucked his nipple through all that hair, tongue working, tasting salt, and that big man back arched and his fingers went in my dreads and held my head right there. I switched sides and gave the other one the same respect, hand kneading that heavy pec, and he talking about "yeah, just like that" with a voice rough from sawdust and want both. Meanwhile Javon hand slid down and wrapped around Destin dick and started stroking slow, thumb circling, talking about "you like that too huh." Destin eyes closed one second and opened darker. He caught my chin and tilted my face up, thumb on my bottom lip, and said "I like it when you make that sound." I made it again. I'm not proud of how fast I made it again but I'm not lying in this post either.

Javon stepped back a half step grinning, eyes going between us. "You two finish what you started?" Destin chuckled, grabbed my ass and squeezed, hand sliding up loose around my throat just to hold me there, thumb on my pulse feeling it run. "Just getting started." Javon stepped back in, hand trailing down Destin chest, talking about ain't this a cozy little scene, we all here for the same reason. Destin nodded. "That's right. And I aim to please."

Then that man grabbed both of us by the shoulders and walked us to the bed like we was furniture he was rearranging in his own house, which honestly we were. Mattress dipped under all that weight. He pushed us back and stood over us a second blocking the whole lamp, chest rising, and said "Lay back."

I sank into that bed, dreads all over his pillow. Javon next to me breathing hard. Destin crawled up between us, one hand on my hip pulling me in, other hand running down Javon chest reading that lion and that script by touch before it slid lower and wrapped around him. Javon moaned and bucked into his hand talking about fuck, Destin, and I was watching it happen two feet from my face getting more worked up than if it was me. I told Destin look at him, so eager for your touch. Destin grinning, stroking him slow, thumb circling the head till Javon shivered, eyes locked on mine. "And you? You like watching me work him over?" I said yeah. I like it. He said "Good. Then watch close. Cause now he gets the lesson."

He moved between Javon legs and the whole bed rearranged around that decision. Javon spread for him, hands gripping the sheets. Me up on my knees at his side where I could see everything, and believe me I saw everything.

"Ready for this?" Javon nodded, wrecked and certain at the same time. "Yeah. Fuck me."

Destin pushed in slow. Carpenter slow. Measuring slow. Javon breath cut off into a gasp and his back came off that mattress as it sank in. Destin stopped right there, hands on Javon hips, fingers dug in, looking down at where they was joined. "Fuck, you're tight." Javon tried to laugh and it came out a groan. "You're big." "Just getting started." And then he started moving, out slow, in deep, building that rhythm the way he build everything, by hand and by feel. Javon legs came up around his waist, ankles locked at his back, pulling him in closer every stroke. Bed creaking in time like it was keeping the beat for them.

And me? I got behind Destin.

Palms down that broad back first. Then both hands on his ass, gripping it, spreading him open with my thumbs, and then my mouth, tongue tracing slow circles, flat and deliberate, tasting salt and sweat. And Destin thrusts stuttered. Actually stuttered mid stroke, a groan tore out that man chest like something surprised him in his own house. "Fuck." Head dropped. Then the rhythm rebuilt harder than before, drove by both things at once, and the bed frame started knocking soft against the wall in a steady beat.

Javon knuckles went white on them sheets. "Shit. Right there." Voice cracked in half. I kept working, tongue pressing, thumbs holding him open while he fucked my roommate with everything my mouth was doing to him, and his breathing went short and harsh, back arching, grip on Javon hips getting tight enough to leave evidence. Javon cried out as the thrusts turned pounding and erratic, got pushed up that bed till his back hit the headboard.

Then Destin reached back. One hand off Javon hip, found me where I was kneeling behind him, wrapped around me and started stroking me in time with his own thrusts. And that's when it stopped being three separate things happening in one bed. Destin in Javon. My mouth on Destin. Destin hand on me. One circuit. Nobody watching anymore. Everybody in it.

Javon went first. "Fuck I'm gonna" and then his voice quit on him, just a moan climbing, body locking up, legs quivering and clamping tighter around Destin waist, everything in him squeezing down in waves.

"Fucking take it," Destin growled, hips snapping, chasing his own through Javon. And I felt it through his whole back before I heard it. The shudder. The rhythm breaking. That roar out of him as he buried in deep and pulsed, filling Javon up, holding himself there like he was setting something in place that he meant to stay set.

I came undone at the sound of it, under his hand, forehead pressed between his shoulder blades, breathing like the end of a double shift. All three of us coming down in stages on that rich man bed. Grips loosening. Bed settling. Room smelling like sweat and sex and cedar drifting up from downstairs. Nobody moved for a long time. Moving was for other people in other houses on other Fridays.

Next thing I know I'm waking up with my heart racing and my cheek on cool sheets.

An hour gone. Maybe more. We had all dozed off without voting on it. Destin beside me breathing steady, arm over my waist. Javon sprawled on the far side out cold, sweat dried on his skin, braids mussed loose at the edges from the wreckage. And I laid there looking at both of them and something moved through me under all the buzzing in my body. I brought my whole life into this man room. And the room held it.

Destin stirred. Arm tightened around me once, then let go. Rolled onto his back, eyes closed, little smile at the corner of his mouth, and then his eyes opened and found me in the lamp light and the smile finished arriving. We turned toward each other. He propped his head on one hand, that shoulder flexing, other arm across my chest, thumb tracing patterns on my stomach slow like he reading my ink in the dark and taking his time with the book.

"You're something else, you know that?" Low and husky. I said yeah, what's that mean. "Just. You're not like most guys I meet. You got a fire in you, but you're also gentle. In the right moments." I told him gentle ain't a word that get applied to me often. He chuckled. "Well it's true. You got a way of making me feel seen. Like no one else does." Brushed my dreads back off my forehead with them rough careful fingers, thumb at my temple, lingering. "Most people just see the house or the business. They don't actually look at me."

Room went quiet in the good way. Clock ticking somewhere. A car passing far off. Nobody reaching for a phone.

I said "Well shit. They missing out."

Man laughed through his whole chest into my side. "Tell me about it. I reckon they are."

My hand was on his bicep, both of us just laying there comfortable, and then my stomach growled loud enough to file its own complaint and ruined the entire cinematic moment. I laughed, embarrassed. Damn you read my mind, I'm starving. He talking about "I didn't read anything, your stomach did a press conference." Eyes crinkling. One last squeeze on my hip and he rolled up out that bed, stood up tall stretching in the lamp light, and said "So. You wanna grab a bite to eat? Maybe hit up that new BBQ joint downtown?"

Far side of the bed, a groan. Javon slow blinking awake, taking in the ceiling, the lamp, the state of them sheets, and us looking at him like the movie was waiting on him to start the next scene. "Tell me y'all not talking about food without me." Voice wrecked down to gravel.

Destin looked at that whole beautiful wreckage of a bed and grinned.

"Get up, roommate. Both of you. I'm feeding y'all."

To be continued...

 

[michaelnola]

Damn that was hot--awesome writing--great work with characters...

 

[Altrdtl]

Damn that was hot--awesome writing--great work with characters...

Thanks for reading and commenting, appreciate it.

 

[Allintoday]

That was hot. Loved your writing. Adding the photos of each guy helps to paint a visual of each in the bedroom.

 

[Altrdtl]

That was hot. Loved your writing. Adding the photos of each guy helps to paint a visual of each in the bedroom.

See you get it Appreciate the read and the feedback.

 

[Altrdtl]

Chapter Four

So Friday didn't end in that bed. Friday had one more stop in it, and the stop was dinner, and dinner turned into a whole situation. Let me back up to where Chapter Three left off though, because y'all need the whole picture.

We was still in Destin bed. Pillow talk over, my stomach already filed its press conference, Destin talking about the new BBQ joint downtown. Destin rolled out that bed, pulled on some grey sweatpants, waistband riding low on his hips, crossed the room, grabbed a pillow off the floor and tossed it at Javon stomach.

"Up. We eating."

Javon jolted, arm coming down over the pillow. "Man, what time is it?"

"Almost six." Destin headed for the master bathroom and a second later the water was running through the wall, the shower coming alive back there.

Javon pushed up on his elbows, hair flattened on one side, squinting at the window light. "Bro. I been asleep for an hour?"

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, grinning at his ass. "You was a little pillow princess."

Javon froze. His face scrunched all the way up while he processed it, looked at me, looked at the door where the shower sound was still running. "Man, shut your ass up." No real heat in it though. He rubbed the back of his neck, skin still flushed from sleep and everything else. "I was just... adjusting."

"Adjusting to what?"

Javon scoffed and rolled his eyes, swinging his own legs off the bed. "Shut up, man. I ain't no damn princess."

I was grinning watching him stretch with this lazy groan. Dude broad as hell, shoulders for days, and his shirt from earlier was clinging to him where he bent down to pick his clothes up off the floor.

"Nah I'm just fucking with you. But you was sleep hard as hell. I was bout to throw a blanket on you."

He looked at me smirking through the whole fake ass annoyance. "Yeah, well."

"Chill damn," I told him, my voice going softer while I laughed a little. "You still sexy, g."

Javon let out this short breathless laugh, shaking his head while he stood all the way up. Stretched his arms high over his head, muscles rippling under his skin. "Man you just tryin to get back in my good graces after callin me a princess."

Then the shower cut off. Few moments later the bathroom door opened and Destin stepped out, white towel wrapped low around his hips, steam clinging to his broad shoulders, droplets of water still trailing down the center of his chest and disappearing into the towel.

I let my eyes go where they wanted to go. Started at that towel sitting low on his hips and traveled slow up the whole damp chest, the broad shoulders. I ain't hide the look neither. My eyes stayed on the water still clinging to the hair on his chest.

"Speaking of sexy."

Destin stopped right there in the middle of the room, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He ain't move to cover up. He shifted his weight and let that towel dip a little lower on his hip, sharp line of his pelvic bone showing like he did it on purpose. Which he did.

Man let out this low rumbling chuckle, eyes locked on mine with that amused confident glint. He reached up and started rubbing a towel through his damp hair, the motion making his biceps peak and ripple like a whole presentation.

"You still hungry, or you just looking for dessert?"

His voice was husky, teasing. Javon, over by the edge of the bed pulling his socks on, looked up and scoffed through a grin. "Man give it a rest. I can't even get my shoes on without y'all staring at each other like this."

Destin ignored him. His focus stayed on me.

"Let's eat then," I said, voice dropping low out of my own mouth, "eat more after."

Destin smirk widened, dark eyes flashing with amusement and hunger both. He dropped the towel from his head and let his damp hair fall natural. He ain't move toward the clothes on the floor right away neither. He just held my gaze a beat too long, the tension in that room thick enough to touch.

"Is that right?"

Javon finished tying his sneaker and stood up brushing off his knees, arms crossed, looking between the two of us with a knowing smirk on his face. "Y'all gonna be in the car talkin like that and I'm just gon be sittin in the backseat eatin cold fries."

Destin chuckled and finally reached for a pair of grey sweatpants on the floor, stepped into em without a towel, pulled em up over his hips, the waistband catching low when he fastened em. "Then you better order a double." He grabbed a white tee off the dresser and pulled it over his head, fabric clinging to his still-damp chest.

"We not third wheeling you, boy," I told Javon, laughing. I pushed myself up off the mattress, moving slow on purpose, stretching my arms overhead, muscles doing what they do. I looked at Javon, then back at Destin standing there in his white tee and grey sweatpants looking every bit the confident homeowner.

Destin eyebrows shot up, this small knowing grin spreading across his face.

"Oh is that right?" His voice dropped to a low rumble. He ain't move away from me neither. He let one hand rest light on my hip, fingers brushing the waistband of my sweatpants.

Javon groaned and threw his hands up. "Man you two just—" He gestured at nothing, shaking his head. "Y'all on some 'don't mind me' bullshit."

I grinned, tilting my head up at Destin, eyes locked on his, all playfulness and challenge. "Nah we got you covered, g."

Javon finished adjusting his grey vest, smoothing it down over his torso with a satisfied grunt. "Alright, I ain't going hungry." He pulled his hoodie on over the vest and his whole face brightened when he gave Destin a teasing grin. "Least you ain't gonna let me starve."

Destin chuckled, grabbing his keys off the dresser. He shot Javon a sidelong look while he shrugged into a dark green hoodie, fabric stretching across his broad shoulders. "Ain't like you'd let that happen." He flashed Javon a smirk before he turned to me.

"Ready?" Destin asked, hand hovering over the bedroom light switch.

I finished tying my sneakers and stood, rolling my shoulders. "Yeah I'm good. Let's hit it."

The three of us walked out into the hallway, overhead light flickering a little when we passed under it. Downstairs the air smelled like cedar and coffee grounds, Destin whole workday still clinging to the house. He unlocked the front door and held it open for both of us. Evening air crisp, smelling like damp leaves and distant smoke off somebody grill.

"Which one we heading to?" Javon asked while we piled into Destin F-150.

Destin pulled that truck into the parking lot of a local BBQ spot, tires crunching over gravel, neon sign flickering in the dimming light, casting this red and yellow glow over the windshield. He killed the engine and for a moment the cabin was just quiet, ticking of the cooling motor and the low hum of the heater.

"Settle in," Destin said, glancing back at the two of us. "Get whatever you want. Don't be modest."

Javon was out the truck before the doors was even fully open, his hunger winning over any lingering modesty.

I slid out the passenger seat, cool evening air hitting me when I shut the door with a solid thud. I watched Javon practically sprint toward the entrance, hoodie bouncing while he moved.

Destin stepped out the driver side and stretched, broad chest expanding under the dark green hoodie. He caught my gaze and gave me a slow knowing wink before he followed us inside.



Inside the joint was warm and loud, smelling heavy of hickory smoke, vinegar, and fried grease. Wooden picnic tables took up the center of the room and a long line of customers stretched toward the counter.

Destin noticed the glances first. His eyes scanned the dining area while he held the door open. The way the patrons shifted their gazes to me and Javon was subtle but it wasn't subtle at all. Small head turns. Quick double-takes. Conversations halting mid-sentence.

Javon caught the shift in the air while we walked toward the host stand. He straightened his hoodie and gave a few of the white customers a defiant look. "You got people watchin us like we about to shoot up the place," he muttered under his breath.

I felt the stares prickling against my skin while we passed the main dining area.

A blonde waitress came up to the host stand with a tight smile, eyes darting between me and Javon. "Just one table?"

Destin stepped forward before Javon could speak. "Three. Reservations under Destin."

The woman expression flickered for a fraction of a second, recognition in her face, curiosity. She gave Javon a longer glance, then me. She checked her tablet before she led us through the dining area toward a corner booth.

We slid in, me with Javon on one side and Destin on the other, leather seats worn but clean, table already set with plastic menus and salt and pepper shakers.

The blonde waitress set down three plastic menus, smile still tight. "Your server will be with you in just a moment." She turned and walked off, ponytail swinging.

Javon watched her go, then leaned across the table toward Destin. "You see the way she looked at us? Like we wandered in off the wrong side of town."

Destin shrugged, picking up a menu. "She looked at you cause you look like you about to eat her whole menu." He flipped a page. "Relax. Food's good here. That's all that matters."

I scanned the menu, eyes moving over the prices.

Javon flipped his menu open with a snap. "Man look at these prices. Brisket plate twenty-two dollars?" He whistled low, shaking his head. "Good thing you payin, big dawg."

Destin ain't look up from his menu. "Order whatever you want. I meant that."

I ran my finger down the laminated page and stopped at the smoked turkey plate. "They got turkey ribs? That's different."

A younger waitress with a nose ring came by and dropped off a mason jar of sweet tea without being asked. "Water for y'all too?" she asked, already pouring.

"Appreciate it," Destin said, giving her a nod.

I leaned back in the booth, my shoulder brushing against Destin. I caught the eye of a middle-aged couple at the next table, the man staring at my dreads and my gold chain with a pinched expression, the woman whispering something behind her hand. I ain't look away. I gave em a slow lazy blink and a small challenging smirk before I turned back to the menu.

"I'm goin with the brisket and mac and cheese," Javon announced, closing his menu with a loud thud. "And some of those collard greens. I'm starvin for real."

Destin looked up, dark eyes flicking to me.

Destin closed his menu and set it flat on the table. "Get what you want," he said again, tapping the table with one knuckle. "I'm serious."

Javon leaned back and draped his arm across the top of the booth. "Brisket plate, mac and cheese, collards, and cornbread. That's it, that's the list."

I slid my menu to the edge of the table. "Smoked turkey plate, baked beans, and a sweet tea." I picked up my mason jar and took a long pull.

The nose-ring waitress came back with a notepad already out. "Y'all ready?"

She talked in a flat professional tone but her eyes flicked to Destin, noting the confident way he was sitting. Shoulders relaxed, hoodie slightly open at the throat, expensive cut of his jeans visible when he shifted. She ain't linger on me and Javon.

"Smoked turkey plate with beans," I confirmed.

"And the mac," Javon added.

"Brisket plate, collards, and cornbread," Destin said smooth, his tone warm with a subtle challenge in it. He met the waitress gaze head-on.

She jotted it down quick and flipped her notepad shut. "Alright. Drinks refilled when they come out."

Javon leaned back and watched her walk off, then turned his cup in slow circles on the table. "You notice she ain't write nothin down till you talked?"

Destin shrugged, tearing open a pack of crackers for beans that ain't even come yet. "She's working. It's Friday night. She got ten tables."

"Nah." Javon shook his head. "I know the difference between busy and bothered. That was bothered."

I took another pull off my sweet tea, ice clinking. I glanced at the middle-aged couple again.

The man was still staring, his expression sour like he was chewing on a lemon. I held his gaze a beat longer than necessary, then looked away, exhaling slow. The old couple started whispering again, voices too low to catch but the tone unmistakable. Judgmental. Suspicious.

Destin noticed the exchange. He ain't turn to look, but his shoulders tensed a little. He pushed the crackers across the table toward Javon instead. "Here. Save your stomach."

Javon grabbed a cracker and snapped it in half. "You ever think about how people like that—" He gestured vague toward the couple. "—just look at us and see a problem?" His voice dropped. He ain't look at the couple but his posture was stiff, shoulder squared against the booth.

Destin finally turned his head and cast a brief cold glance at the couple. He ain't glare. He just looked at em with a flat unimpressed expression that made the man blink and look back down at his own plate quick. Destin turned back to the table, his expression softening when he looked at me.

"I stopped caring what they saw a long time ago," Destin said, voice low and steady. "They're just background noise."

"Like they wanna see us fuck or something," I said.

Javon barked out a laugh, shaking his head while he bit into a cracker. "Man I wouldn't put it past em," he muttered through a mouthful before he swallowed. "Old white people get off on that shit. Like they can't believe we actually exist outside of their fuckin racist TV shows."

I leaned back in the booth, my arm draped casual behind Destin. I caught the eye of the man at the next table again, held his gaze a second longer this time. My smirk was slow and deliberate. I knew exactly what I was doing.

"Shit, they probably do," I said, voice dropping lower.

The old man across the table finally broke eye contact, face reddening while he cleared his throat and busied himself with his fork. His wife muttered something to him and he grunted back, shoulders still stiff with tension. Both of em pointedly avoided looking at me and Javon now, focusing on their plates of BBQ instead.

Javon noticed the shift and smirked, stretching his arms over his head. "Aight, y'all just gonna sit there and pretend we ain't here?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Shit y'all could at least try to be subtle about it. We see y'all."

The old man fork clattered against his plate, his hand shaking a little while Javon words cut through the air. He ain't look up, but his wife shifted uncomfortable in her seat, manicured nails drumming against the table. She glanced at me and Destin, then quick away, like she was afraid to be caught staring.

Javon leaned back, slow grin spreading across his face. "See this is what I'm talkin about," he said, his voice carrying just loud enough for the couple to hear. "Y'all think you hidin it, but we see the looks, we see the whispers."

"Aye Javon… chill out," I said.

Javon glanced at me, grin still on his face but fading at the edges. He held his hands up, palms out. "My bad. My bad." He picked up his mason jar and took a long drink, settling back into his side of the booth.

Destin watched Javon for a beat, then looked over at me. It was a flicker of something in his expression. Approval, maybe. He ain't say anything, just tapped the table once with his knuckle.

The restaurant noise filled the space they left behind. Country music played low over the speakers, mixing with the clatter of plates and the hiss of the kitchen.

Then the country song shuffled into a twangy outro and a familiar beat dropped in its place. A slow bass-heavy groove filled the restaurant, the kind that make heads bob even in a BBQ joint full of old white folks.

Javon eyes lit up. He set his mason jar down and started tapping his fingers against the table, shoulders rolling with the rhythm. "Oh shit, this that joint right here," he said, bobbing his head. "They got taste after all."

I tilted my head, listening for a second. I recognized the track. A smooth late-90s R&B cut with a slow seductive bounce.

I snapped my fingers, leaning forward a little while the beat kicked in. "Aye you know this one, Javon. This that '97 shit, man. Can't front on it."

Javon grinned, already in his seat but swaying to the rhythm. "Man please. I was rockin this before you even knew what a bassline was." He flipped his hoodie strings over his shoulder, getting comfortable. "You ain't even bout to try to diss me on my music selection, Ant."

I chuckled, shaking my head. I leaned in, mischievous glint in my eyes. "I ain't dissing you, I'm just saying you probably only like this cause it remind you of when you had a buzz cut and played with Legos."

Javon let out a loud indignant scoff, nearly choking on his cracker. "Legos? Man get out of here! I was out here in the streets while you was probably still getting your hair brushed."

Destin leaned back in the booth, broad shoulders taking up a good portion of the space. He watched the two of us, me with my slow teasing smirk and Javon bobbing his head with exaggerated energy, and a small amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He ain't join in the music, but he tracked our movement with a keen observant gaze.

Destin let out a low hum of amusement, dark eyes flicking from my smug expression to Javon rhythmic swaying. He shifted his weight, leather of the booth creaking under him while he crossed his arms over his chest, fabric of his green hoodie tightening across his biceps.

"Y'all are something else," Destin said, voice a dry rumble that cut through our banter. "Look at y'all."

Destin shook his head, a small genuine smile playing on his lips while he looked at us. "Like two kids in a candy store. You got one of you acting like he's the king of the nineties and the other one just happy to be here."

Javon stopped swaying and leaned back with a look of mock offense. "Now what is that? I'm just vibing, man."

I laughed, nudging Javon shoulder with my own. "Yeah, vibing so hard you're about to fall out the booth."

 

[Altrdtl]

Destin smile widened and he shook his head again. "You two are a trip." His voice was warm, fond in a way that made my chest feel tight. He ain't look away from us, just watched with that steady confident gaze that always make me feel seen and slightly exposed at the same time.

Javon reached for his mason jar again, took a sip before he set it down with a satisfied sigh. "Man I don't know why y'all gotta clown me. I got taste. I just know what sounds good."

I leaned back against the booth, my gold chain glinting under the dim overhead lights. I rolled my shoulders, stretching out, still grinning at Javon. "Yeah yeah. You got taste, my man. You just also like to talk a lot." I nudged Javon again, this time with a little more force, just enough to make him shift in his seat.

Javon feigned indignation, his free hand flying to his chest. "Talk a lot? Me? Nah man, I'm just explaining my art." He gestured dramatic toward the table. "Music is art, and I am the connoisseur."

Javon caught the look on my face then, that tight warm expression I get when Destin attention lands on me. He grinned, leaning forward on the table, elbows planted.

"Oh I see what's goin on here," Javon said, voice dropping to a playful drawl. "You got a whole nother personality when big man around, huh?"

My brow furrowed. "What you talkin bout?"

Javon gestured between me and Destin with a lazy wave. "You. Mr. 'I'm so smooth with the dreads and the gold chain.' You been talkin all slick and proper since we sat down."

Destin snorted soft, shaking his head while he picked up his mason jar. "Man, leave him alone."

Javon ignored him, leaning back with a satisfied look. "Nah nah, I'm sayin — you even sittin different. You used to slouch like you was tryin to be all casual, but now you sittin up straight like somebody important." He mimicked my posture, straightening his spine and lifting his chin, which made me crack a smile despite myself.

I rolled my eyes but I ain't deny it. I caught Destin watching me from the corner of his eye, that quiet approving look that always make my skin tingle.

Then the food arrived on heavy metal trays, steam rising off the meat in thick clouds. The waitress set em down one by one, hands quick and efficient. Brisket plate in front of Destin, smoked turkey for me, and Javon loaded tray with mac and cheese and collard greens.

Javon stared at his plate like it was a work of art. "Oh this is beautiful," he said, grabbing the cornbread and taking a bite before anything else. His eyes rolled back a little. "Okay yeah. This is worth the stares."

I picked up my fork, cutting into the smoked turkey. The meat was tender, falling apart at the touch.

The first bite of turkey melted on my tongue, smoky flavor rich and complex, fat glistening under the overhead lights. I chewed slow, savoring the taste, a soft hum of appreciation escaping my lips. Javon ain't wait for nobody before he dug into his mac and cheese, fork clinking against the plate while he shoveled a heaping bite into his mouth. He chewed with exaggerated enthusiasm, eyes half-closed in culinary bliss.

"Man this mac is everything," Javon mumbled through a full mouth. He swallowed, then immediately stabbed another forkful.

Destin watched us both for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He picked up his knife and fork, cutting into his brisket with deliberate even strokes. The meat sliced clean, juice pooling on the metal tray. He took a bite, chewing slow, eyes scanning the room with that calm watchful ease.

"Y'all act like you ain't ate in a week," Destin said, voice low but carrying over the din of the restaurant. He set his fork down, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Javon paused mid-bite, a string of cheese hanging from his lip. He caught it with his tongue, grinning.

"Man I'm tryin to soak it all in," Javon said, licking his fingers before he reached for his mason jar. "This shit is good. I ain't even lyin." He washed down his bite with a swig of tea, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Y'all ain't even hit y'all's sides yet."

I picked up my fork and cut into the baked beans. Rich and smoky, the sweetness cutting through the salt. I scooped up a bite, blowing on it a little before I put it in my mouth. Flavors melded together, warm and satisfying. "Damn you right," I said, nodding.

Javon dragged a piece of cornbread through the collard green pot liquor, mopping the tray clean. "This the part they don't tell you about," he said, holding up the soaked bread. "The juice at the bottom. That's the treasure."

Destin cut another slice of brisket, the bark cracking under his knife. "You eat like you ain't got a fridge at home."

"I got a fridge with old mustard and a dead lemon in it. This here's a religious experience." Javon shoveled it in, cheeks bulging.

I laughed, shaking my head while I worked through my turkey.



Destin slid out the booth, grabbing the check before Javon could even finish wiping his face with a napkin. He pulled out a leather wallet and laid a hundred-dollar bill on the tray, ain't even bother waiting for change.

"I got it," Destin said, voice a low final note.

The three of us walked out the restaurant, the warmth of the BBQ joint replaced by the sharp biting chill of the November night. Parking lot dim lit by a few buzzing yellow streetlamps, air thick with the smell of charcoal and exhaust.

Javon walked ahead, stretching while he stepped out into the open air. He exhaled, rubbing his belly over his hoodie. "Man I needed that," he said with a satisfied groan.

I followed close behind, my fingers brushing against Destin sleeve for just a moment before I pulled away. I spoke without turning my head. "Ain't nobody ever said you needed that much."

Javon scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "You don't see the way I was eatin? That's the difference between me and you, Ant. I appreciate a full stomach."

Destin chuckled, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air while he walked beside us.

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, walking slow across the gravel toward the F-150. Streetlamp above flickered, throwing yellow light over the rows of parked cars. "Man you ate like you was competing for a trophy."

"I won the trophy," Javon said, patting his stomach. "First place in brisket."

Destin clicked the unlock on his key fob. The truck lights blinked twice. Before he could pull the handle, Javon stopped mid-step.

"Aye." Javon nodded across the lot, chin tilted.

I followed his gaze. Parked three spaces down sat a silver Buick.

The silver Buick engine idled, exhaust curling into the cold night air. The middle-aged couple from the restaurant sat in the front seats, the man face half-lit by the glow of his phone screen. He wasn't looking at the phone. He was looking at the three of us.

Javon ain't break his stare. "They followin us or somethin?"

The man in the Buick noticed Javon looking. He dropped his phone into his lap and stared straight ahead, both hands gripping the steering wheel like he was about to pull out. The woman beside him was talking, her mouth moving fast, but the windows was up and the sound ain't carry.

Javon jaw tightened. He ain't look away from the Buick. "Nah that's weird. They watched us the whole dinner, and now they sittin there waitin for us to leave?"

Destin followed Javon gaze, his expression unreadable. He took a slow breath, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "They ain't followin nobody. They probably just finished eatin too." His voice was calm. Measured.

I shifted on my feet, pulling my hoodie tighter against the cold. "They finished eatin twenty minutes ago. We saw em leave before we even got our food."

Javon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Man I'm tellin you, that ain't right." He jerked his chin toward the Buick again. "They sittin in their car like they tryna get a look at somethin."

Destin exhaled through his nose, his breath visible in the cold air. He ain't immediately unlock the truck. Instead he stepped closer to the Buick, his stance casual, but it was a weight to his movement, an unspoken challenge.

The woman in the passenger seat noticed Destin walking toward em. She nudged her husband, who stiffened but ain't immediately look away.

I watched Destin move closer, his broad frame silhouetted by the yellow glow of the parking lot lights. Javon shifted his weight, arms still crossed, but he ain't try to stop him. The man in the Buick finally looked up, jaw tightening while Destin shadow fell over his car. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white.

Destin stopped just in front of the driver window, hands in his hoodie pockets. He ain't say anything at first, just stood there, looking at em through the glass. The woman gaze flicked to Javon, then to me, before it returned to Destin. She ain't smile.

Destin stepped back from the Buick, a sudden sharp glint in his dark eyes. He ain't look at the couple again. Instead he turned toward me and Javon, his movements deliberate and heavy.

He reached out, his large hands gripping the back of my neck and Javon shoulder, pulling both of us inward with a sudden forceful strength.

Destin crashed his mouth onto mine first. It was not a tentative kiss. It was a claim. He pressed me flush against his chest, his lips crushing against mine in a deep wet French kiss.

My hands flew to Destin shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie while he yanked me forward. My lips parted instinctive, my body responding before my brain could catch up. The kiss was all heat and pressure, Destin tongue sliding against mine, possessive and demanding. I could taste the BBQ on his breath, the sharp tang of salt and smoke mixing with something warmer, something distinctly him.

Destin ain't stop there. He pulled back from me just enough to turn his head, his other hand still gripping Javon shoulder. Before Javon could react, Destin mouth was on his too. Just as rough. Just as hungry.

The silver Buick engine sputtered to life. The man inside fumbled with the gear shift, his wife voice now audible through the glass, sharp and insistent. The car jerked backward, nearly clipping a parked sedan before it straightened out and rolled toward the exit.

Destin pulled back from Javon, his lips wet, his breathing steady. He watched the Buick taillights disappear onto the main road before he turned back to the two of us.

"See?" he said, voice low and even. "That's all they wanted."

Javon stood frozen, his mouth still half-open, his eyes wide.

Javon blinked slow, then shook his head. "Man..." He exhaled hard, running a hand over his mouth. "You ain't playin around, huh?"

I was still catching my breath, my lips tingling where Destin kissed me. I glanced at Javon, who looked equal parts shocked and turned on.

Destin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, casual as if he just finished a beer instead of kissing both of us in front of strangers. "Keys?" he asked, extending his palm toward me.

I hesitated, reached into my hoodie pocket, pulled out his truck keys. They clinked soft in the cold night air.

"Where we headed?"

To be continued...

 

[michaelnola]

Awesome story---excellent writing..takes some talent to not write just a sex story. Thanks man---

 

[Kcc29]

Oof talk about an immersive experience! I’m hooked! I’m equal parts nostalgic and wistful. Can’t wait to see what happens next!

 

[Altrdtl]

Awesome story---excellent writing..takes some talent to not write just a sex story. Thanks man---

Thanks man this really means a lot and that’s why I write in the first place to make things not just a sequence of events but actual ones with cause-and-effect. Glad I brought you something to appreciate.