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Darius: sorry, man. You okay? You want to go out tonight and drown your sorrows?
Greg stared at those words for a long moment before he asked where Darius was. He hadn’t expected him to be online since the man should have been at 35,000 feet on the outward-bound leg of a turnaround to Dallas.
Darius: Flight cancelled. I’m inbound from LAX. Not working until Monday. I could use a night out. We sat on the tarmac for three hours.
He added three screaming baby emojis, and Greg felt nothing but sympathy for his roommate. Trips like that were a nightmare for the flight crews, especially if they ended up getting cancelled. And while heading to a West Hollywood club wasn’t the way Greg had pictured this evening going, it might not be the worst thing in the world. If he didn’t, he’d probably end up doom scrolling in his bedroom to avoid his roommates’ inquisition or thinking about Mason’s parting shot while he tried to figure out what was so difficult about finding someone who didn’t have to “deal with” or work to “understand” him but actually accepted him as he was and enjoyed being with him.
No matter how much he tried to explain asexuality, most of the guys he’d been with didn’t understand it. Whether it was because they didn’t believe him when he said he rarely felt turned on or aroused, or they took his lack of erections personally, Greg wasn’t sure. Mason apparently fell into another group who saw it as a challenge. Guys like that thought they’d be the one who was hot enough or horny enough to “cure” him. Suggesting Greg wasn’t gay was new, as was telling Greg he was a control freak, but if it helped Mason feel better, whatever, Greg was used to things ending this way and being alone. Mason holding out on his HIV status was a betrayal that struck Greg to the core, and he absolutely didn’t want to go down that road tonight.
His phone buzzed with a new message in the chat.
Luis:You know I’m always *up* for going out.
Darius:course you are, darling.
Did he want to go with them? Greg looked at his watch. It was only ten, still early for heading to a club, and much earlier than he’d been expecting to be home. He and Mason had gone for a nice dinner, then back to Mason’s place for some couple time. Everything had been fine until they were in bed, and Mason insisted on being fucked. Greg pushed aside the thoughts of how quickly things had gone downhill and why he hadn’t realized that Mason was a huge asshole sooner.
Darius:we can stay in if you’d rather.
Greg:let me see how I feel when I get back.
Luis:unh uh, decide now, babe, otherwise, we’re never getting you out tonight.
Darius:truth, man.
Going out was better than sitting around with both his roommates wanting to process Greg’s latest dating disaster. He messaged back a dancing emoji that had more energy than he currently felt.
Greg:fine.
Luis:perfect!
He added a string of unicorns, kissy lips, the disco dude, and an eggplant emoji that made Greg smile. As much as his inclination was to sit in the apartment, he couldn’t deny that heading out with Luis and Darius would be good for him. Getting back on the horse and all that. It also wasn’t often that the three of them were in town together with the following day off, and tradition stated that, when it happened, they all went out.
About half an hour later, Greg arrived at the West Hollywood condo he’d shared with Luis and Darius for the past five years. The place wasn’t spacious, but it worked for them, and the rent was doable because Luis had inherited it from one of his uncles and didn’t have a huge mortgage to pay off. Luis and Darius, who’d been friends since they were eight, shared one of the bedrooms, and Greg shared the other. They were all flight attendants with varying schedules, which almost guaranteed that each of them would have the place to themselves at least once a month, though, more often than not, Luis and Darius coordinated their schedules to be in LA at the same time.
At the moment, Greg had a room to himself because their fourth roommate, Micah, had relocated to San Francisco to be with the love of his life the previous year. They’d had a couple of trial replacements who hadn’t worked out, and were currently awaiting a new prospective roommate, someone Micah had flown with and recommended to them.He can be an ass at first, but he’s really a good guy once you get to know him, Micah had told them.
Greg looked at his phone as he climbed the stairs to the second-floor unit. He and Micah had become close while living together, and he missed his friend. His absence from the roommate chat still gave Greg’s heart a pang when he didn’t see a response from Mi and then remembered he was living in a different city and no longer flying.
As he reached his front door, Greg thought about texting Micah about this evening’s debacle. Micah’s perspective was one he valued, and they’d had lots of conversations about asexuality and aromanticism as Micah came to realize the guy he’d been in love with since he was eighteen was likely the latter. Jake had confirmed it last year, and the two of them had worked through twenty years’ worth of misunderstandings and hurt feelings until they’d finally been able to move in together.
Greg didn’t understand everything about their relationship, but several years ago, Jake had shown up by chance on a flight into Denver when Micah was accompanying Greg home to see his parents. The two hadn’t spoken in years, but Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off Micah the entire flight. When he was waiting at the gate for the flight crew to deplane, Greg thought it was one of the most romantic things he’d ever witnessed and insisted Micah at least talk to Jake. Micah never did make it to see Greg’s parents that weekend, but Greg could forgive his friend for that. He’d give anything to have a guy look at him the way Jake had looked at Micah.
“Honey, I’m home,” Greg called as he came through the door.
“Be right there.” Luis’s voice was muffled through the closed door to his and Darius’s bedroom, and there was a low murmur of another voice. If Greg wasn’t mistaken, Darius had beaten him home.
Greg shook his head and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Luis and Darius had been in love with each other as long as he’d known them, probably as long as they’d known each other, though they seemed oblivious to a fact that everyone around them recognized. Neither of them was able to sustain a romantic relationship; they spent almost all of their time together when they were both home, and Greg couldn’t count the number of times he’d found them cuddled up together on the couch, not to mention the king-sized bed they shared in their room. Despite this, they continued to hook up with other people and cried on each other’s shoulders when it didn’t work out and never recognized they’d already found their person.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey.” Greg turned.
Luis stood in the kitchen doorway. He was a small guy, barely five-five with a lithe frame befitting the gymnast he’d been in college, sun-kissed skin, and dark brown eyes that glowed with mischief. At the moment, he was wearing a pair of flirty shorts that showed off his toned legs, had swapped out his sedate, work-approved nose stud for a gold hoop, and sported dangling earrings that glinted under the kitchen lights. He’d already done his makeup for a night out with dramatically outlined eyes, highly contoured cheeks, and lots of shimmer. When he reached past Greg for a glass, Greg got a glimpse of freshly manicured nails and a couple of chunky gold rings. Luis was definitely going to be on the hunt for something tonight.
Eyeing him up and down, his faux lashes fluttering, Luis opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of margaritas. Without a word, he took Greg’s water from him, got him a fresh glass, and poured him a drink.
“You look like you could use it, hon,” he said, then turned his head and yelled for his roommate. “Dar? Stat! It’s a bad one!”
