Hector jerked his head up. “Why?”
Miguel lifted his booted foot up behind him, wiggling it once before setting it back on the floor. “My ankle is much better. I’ll probably take the boot off tomorrow. So you can have your bed back to yourself.”
Hector wished he could see Miguel’s face. It didn’t take that long to rinse two plates, so Miguel purposely avoided looking at him. He didn’t know why. He did know that he couldn’t offer a valid reason for them to continue sleeping together.
“As long as that’s what you’re comfortable with.”
Miguel finally shut off the water and turned to face him. “Yep. It’ll be fine,” he said with an overly bright smile. Miguel started from the room but Hector caught his wrist as he passed.
“Hey.” He stopped, not even sure what he wanted to say. Miguel looked down at him, waiting.
“Yeah?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Thanks for breakfast.”
Miguel smiled a little more naturally this time. “Of course.”
Hector let him go, and Miguel left the kitchen. Hector sighed again and leaned back in his chair. He really needed to figure shit out.
***
By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Miguel had indeed stopped wearing the air cast. His foot felt oddly light as he moved around the apartment getting ready to iron his uniforms. In the corner of the living room, he unfolded the ironing board. He wanted to get his scrubs crisp and wrinkle-free so he’d look his best for his first day. He glanced up from tugging a uniform top onto the ironing board as Hector rose from his computer desk and went into the bedroom.
Miguel was glad he’d moved back to the couch last night. Even though the bed was much more comfortable, it felt like he’d barely slept a wink. When he’d offered for Hector to join him, it had been out of guilt. He didn’t like the fact that Hector slept on the couch while he was reclining in his bed. What he hadn’t counted on was the urge he’d felt to curl up to Hector’s side. To cuddle in close and feel his body heat. He’d sucked him off, but he’d barely touched anywhere else. He’d wanted to. God, he’d wanted to. He still did in fact. But as he reminded himself for the millionth time, Hector had made it clear that wasn’t a path their relationship was going to take.
Which meant, night after night, Miguel had lain there stiff as a board, terrified that once he fell asleep, he’d end up plastered to Hector’s side. And of course, Hector would push him away. Reject him. Be angry and insulted that Miguel was on him again after he’d already said he wasn’t interested.
Miguel didn’t want to be that guy: the gay guy who gave straight men an excuse to claim that gay men made them uncomfortable. So he’d spent a week sharing a bed with Hector while pretending it was no big deal. But he couldn’t do it anymore. His first day of work was tomorrow. He needed a full night’s sleep to be prepared for it. He wouldn’t get that if he was lying less than a foot away from Hector. With that in mind, it was best that he’d moved back to the couch.
Besides, he hadn’t lied about his ankle. It was doing much better, so there was no physical reason for him to continue sleeping in Hector’s bed. Like he’d told Hector yesterday morning, he’d be fine on the couch.
Miguel looked up again as Hector came back out of his bedroom wearing a pair of gray sweats and nothing else. He pressed a little harder with the iron than he needed to when he saw that bare torso. It just wasn’t fair how much he loved Hector’s chest. Miguel wanted to lie across that broad expanse while Hector played in his hair like he had their one night of shared intimacy. He could just imagine it. They’d both be sated from sex, Hector’s golden skin gleaming with sweat from his exertions. And Hector would be gentle and teasing as Miguel came down from his orgasmic high.
His fantasy was on the verge of spiraling out of control when Hector sat on the couch, legs slightly spread. Miguel almost burned himself with the iron. He was ninety-nine point nine percent sure Hector wasn’t wearing any underwear. Or if he was, they had to be a very loose pair of boxers. Because Miguel could see…everything. The round outline of his balls and the length of his shaft that Miguel knew would be even longer if he were aroused were plainly visible.
The sight was as enticing as the devil holding a bucketful of the sweetest candy. As a dental assistant, Miguel knew candy was bad for him. Just like staring at Hector’s dick was bad for him. Miguel felt like he’d dodged a bullet as he determinedly looked down at the scrubs he was ironing. After seeing Hector lounging in sweats sans underwear, he was more thankful than ever that he’d made the decision to leave his best friend’s bed.
Chapter 8
Monday morning, Miguel walked up to his new place of employment. He was nervous. He hadn’t worked in three years, and this would be his first full-time position as a dental assistant.
The one thing he had confidence in was the fact that he looked the part. Their dress code was blue scrubs or office-appropriate prints. For his first day, Miguel had chosen a pair of plain dark blue scrubs. His shoes were tame as well, with good support for being on his feet all day. He no longer had to wear the boot, but he had on a slim ankle brace to give him a little support. His hair was neatly brushed and held back off his forehead with a thin elastic band. And a sorrel red messenger bag holding his keys, phone, and brown bag lunch crossed over his chest. He was ready. The glass door was locked, so he knocked.
After a short wait, the receptionist came over to let him in.
“Good morning!” She stepped back to let him pass by her. “We’ll get you a key before you leave this evening. I’m Amy by the way.”
“Hi, Amy. And thank you.” Before he could say anything else, Kendra, Dr. Nguyen’s assistant, walked into the waiting area.
“Hello again! Ready for your first day?”
“Does shaking with nervousness count as being ready?”
Kendra laughed. “You’ll be fine. Let’s go put your stuff up, and we’ll get started.”
She led him to a small, but clean break room in the back.
“Fridge is there for your lunch if you brought one, and you can pick from the empty cubbies for your bag. We like to keep the front area as clear as possible.” She kept talking as Miguel put his food and bag away. “We clean up after ourselves, but you’re not expected to do more than that. A cleaning service comes in every evening.”