---
Darren
Tyler got me good in the car. It had been a long time since I'd had anything. Too long. I had a little more willpower the next time we went out and kept him at bay. He whined like a little puppy, then he got a little rougher. There was a wolf in there. Three more nights in a row he tried to get his hand down my trousers and I denied him each time.
I actually enjoyed it when he pushed it. Enough strength and the right words would hold him down. He always fought, but he would always submit.
"I'm not fucking you yet," I told him.
"Do I have to work for it?"
"Yes."
He grinned one of those charming grins that made my heart flip, and accepted it. He'd had me once, he'd be patient enough to have me again.
I wanted to know for myself how much I liked this man, before I told the rest of the world. And it was why Zack and Amelia knew nothing for so long. Tyler seemed fine with keeping it quiet. There were certain reactions that would happen, that wouldn't if it were someone else. For a while I was happy to keep my private life, private.
We hardly saw each other at work. We didn't see each other every night - sometimes we just called. Life still had to go on. Sometimes I was genuinely too busy. I got a treat when I rang him up one time, 11pm, with a sudden urge to hear his voice.
"I'm in the middle of a wank," he said.
"Nice. What are you watching?"
"Nothing. I have a good imagination."
I chuckled, heard him grunt.
"Why don't you talk dirty, make this better for me?"
I just chuckled again, no idea what to do when put on the spot like that. And he grunted again, in approval.
"You know," he said, voice a little more breathless, "that's good enough." I got to hear his panting and moaning down the phone while he finished himself.
God, he was hot.
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't stroked one out nearly every night, too. I needed to keep myself under control, so I wouldn't cave in an instant to his groping fingers and mischievous looks.
*
He did start to get suspicious of me. The long story short is that he noticed I never drove. He got to see a glimpse of the damn Lamborghini when he dropped me off at the grounds of my house, and couldn't understand why I owned something so expensive and never used it.
We were stuck in a ridiculous traffic jam for a Sunday. It was raining. His reckless road rage, swerving, cutting people off, was making me so anxious and sick that I snapped at him. He tossed me the closest thing to a glare that I'd yet seen.
"Do you not have a license or something? Why the fuck do you never drive?"
I shut my eyes and rubbed my brow. We sat there in silence, listening to the annoying whines of the wipers.
"I was in a crash," I finally said.
The silence stretched more. I stared out the windscreen and only saw his movements from the corner of my eye. When he did speak his voice was quiet.
"You can't let something like that stop you doing it forever."
"I know. I'm trying, I..." We braked. The traffic was a gridlock ahead of us. Tyler's hand reached across and touched my knee rather than swear about it. "It was a bad crash," I said. "I killed my cousin."
His head snapped around, and he stared.
"I attended his funeral the day I was supposed to be at Amelia's wedding."
"... Jesus Christ. Darren, I'm so sorry."
The tilt in his eyebrows, the sadness in those eyes. I instantly regretted that he would be sympathising with my pain.
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry I fucking said anything. I'll drive you anywhere you want to go."
I managed the shortest excuse for a chuckle and shook my head. "I can drive, if I have to. I'd just rather not. It only takes something small to happen and I get a panic attack."
His arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me into a hug. The steady beat of his heart was soothing. He pecked my cheek before leaning back to reposition the car.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"What about it?"
"Well what happened?"
I rested my head against the seat and thought quietly for a moment. "I didn't have any excuse. The road wasn't wet. There wasn't any other traffic. We were just racing around countryside roads like idiots, like normal. I don't know what happened. It was a completely straight, dry road, and the tyres just... lost their grip."
"Did you bounce over a pothole?"
"I don't know. It happened fast. The car was just skidding out of control and when I braked it spun. His side is what hit the tree. I got out so miraculously unscathed. I had whiplash and glass in my arm but he just... it destroyed him."
I blinked as I pictured the horrifying sight. I was jaded to it. I had forced it through my mind over and over again, forcing myself to get over it.
"He didn't have much of a skull left. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and I know it's not my fault that he wasn't, but it's my fault for driving that car when he wasn't. I think... I think he would've died even if he wore it, though. His side of the car it just, it was gone. It was completely crushed. He didn't stand a chance and-"
I wanted to say how I couldn't get his body out. How I had called for an ambulance then just collapsed on my knees and wept. My breath was rattling in my lungs. I was sitting in the passenger side of a car right now, picturing that mess. My nightmares had always been where I was in his mind, going through his death. Seeing my own terrified face through his eyes. What was it like to hit that tree?
Tyler's hand squeezed my knee. "Hey, easy. It's okay. I get it."
"It was a fucking Lamborghini," I said. "I bought that new one to try and force myself through it but I can't sit inside the thing. I just can't."
His arm went around me again and he kissed me. He held me. It was so affectionate, and when his eyes opened with that look, I should've known that there was more to him than sex. He nuzzled my nose and pecked my cheek, then sat back straight in his seat, eager to roll forward a whole six feet with the crawling traffic.
Could he be adorable and hot at the same time? Because he was.
---
Tyler
My life completely revolved around work and Darren. There was nothing else.
The first time I saw him on a weekend in casual clothes I think I sort of melted into the floor.
He took the dating seriously. After that taster on the first night he almost became a damn celibate. For a couple of weeks I was happy to play along, then I received a hard slap that made me rethink everything about myself. What was wrong with me?
When he told me about the crash all I could think about was that text he had sent me. 'I want to get to know you better'. This was a man who actually wanted to connect with me, not just feel my insides or have me stick it in him. I had been hounding him like a panting dog, barely behaving like a person beneath a shell of lust.
I was ashamed. I felt immature. And then I realised that I was insecure.
Why did I think I had to have my mouth around his cock for him to be interested in me?
