I mean, he’s not dirty or anything, but he’s got scabs on his chin and his hands, like he fell hard on concrete. And his clothes are a bit torn. His lip is split and he looks tired.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask, and clap his hand in mine in friendly greeting.
“Fell down the stairs,” he shrugs bashfully, a self-deprecating smile on his scarred lips. “You know those things are a death trap, man.”
“What the fuck did you come looking for me for?” I demand. “It’s not safe for you to be walking around.”
“Well, um,” Joshy’s shoulders tense up. Young-gi’s presence looms over my shoulder and Joshy clears his throat, looking anywhere but at us. He glances nervously at Bruce, as if he’s hoping for backup or support.
And Bruce gives it to him immediately, taking his hand, patting his back. It’s such a familiar gesture that it gives me deja vu. But back when we were together–when he did that for me–I’d shrug him off, bite out nasty remarks to him, and dare him tomakeme accept his care.
But that kind of dare was never what Bruce wanted, and his softness was never what I needed.
But Joshy? He just melts right away, like ice cream in the summer. Like he’s been waiting for that kind of soft touch his whole life. His shoulders sag as he relaxes, he nods to himself like he’s getting courage, and takes a deep breath.
“Well, you see,” he winces, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. “I um–well, the thing is that, uh, well, it’s kinda–um…”
He waffles, and Young-gi takes the opportunity to circle us, to lean on his desk and loom, to pin me under his stare. I expected him to be mean-mugging Bruce, to be snarling at him or some shit, but instead…it’s like no one even matters but me. Whatever jealousy he had that made him want to get here, it’s burned off and all that’s left is his heated possessiveness.
When he realizes I’m looking, his brick-wall blankness cracks ever-so-slightly. A whisper of expression; he wants me. And theway he runs his eyes down my body to my ass, I know he’s looking forward to spanking me.
Fuck yeah.
“Joshy,” I interrupt impatiently. “Spit it out.”
“Take your time,” Bruce murmurs, shooting me a look that I’ve never seen on him before–one that tells me to back off.
I blink in surprise, staring at him, but he’s already looking back at Joshy. My gaze bounces back and forth between them, and I snort a laugh. “Are y’all fucking?”
“Tommy!” Bruce admonishes me. Joshy scowls.
“Don’t be a dick,” he says. “You know that isn’t what’s going on.” He gestures at himself, maybe not even realizing he’s doing it, as if to saylook at me, why would anyone be fucking me?
“It’s just a question,” I put my hands up innocently.
“Perhaps we should get to the point,” Young-gi sighs. I lean against the opposite side of his desk and cross my arms, acutely aware of the fact that I’m probably about to get spanked over this desk as soon as we get this over with.
Yeah, let’s get to the fucking point.
“Okay, well, I didn’t mean for it to happen, first of all,” Joshy huffs, his annoyance with me making his words come easier. “I gave him the rent money, just like you asked, alright? Told him it was from you and not to give your spot away. Well, all of a sudden he’s asking all these questions–”
“Who?” Young-gi interrupts.
“Tyler?” I ask Joshy, and when he nods, I explain. “Tyler’s the guy on the lease at the apartment. We would pay him under the table for our spots. What happened with Tyler, Joshy?”
“He was asking all these questions,” Joshy shrugged defensively. His hands twitch and fidget in his lap and Bruce takes them in his, comforting him. “Like where you got the money from, and who you were with, and what rich guys wereyou fucking again and all that. He was pissed because you told him off about being your manager or something like that?”
“My pimp,” I sigh. “I told him to fuck off when he asked to be my pimp and manage my schedule. I wasn’t doing that anymore.”
Young-gi pulls out his phone and starts typing on it furiously, and I have to bite back a smile because I can read the bloodthirst in his eyes, even if no one else can. He’ll have Tyler in a box for me by tonight.
God, that’s so fucking sexy.
I’m so insane.
“So you told him I might be fucking for cash again, and he kicked you out?” I ask, waving at his messy state. “You need a place to stay?”
“Nah, um,” Joshy winced and leaned closer to Bruce without seeming to realize it. And Bruce’s eyes sparkle like we’re in a Christmas film, all lovey and shit. He eats up little sad-boy, save-me acts like this one. But with Joshy, it’s not really an act.
