When Steven helps his neighbor Devon move into the studio apartment upstairs, he can't help but drool. And that's all. Devon is straight and totally off limits. Knowing, though, doesn't stop the desire Steven fights every time the two men are together, which is a lot since Steven has decided to take Devon under his wing until the young man can get his life together.
|File size:||170 KB|
|Age Range:||18 Years|
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The chore to move Devon in was more than Steven had anticipated. Although he'd heard someone moving through the hallway outside his apartment and up the stairs for most of the time since he'd gotten home from work, Devon still had most of a rented U-Haul full of stuff. Including furniture.
"A buddy of mine was supposed to help me out," he explained sheepishly as they set down the frame for his futon, "but I don't know what happened to him." A look crossed over Devon's face, an empty stare of loss and confusion that he'd point to a corner of the room now and then. Steven had already glimpsed it a few times in just the short time since he'd met Devon.
"Not much of a buddy," Patty announced, appearing in the front door with another box. At five foot ten herself, Patty was as big and as strong, if not stronger, than most of the men she knew. She gave Steven a pointed stare. "Good thing Steven's around."
He scowled at her behind Devon's back, a silent "be nice" in his look.
She shrugged and took the box to the bedroom, her long blonde braid bouncing against her back.
Steven wiped the frown from his face as Devon turned back to him. "Yeah, hey." He extended his hand. "Thanks, man."
Steven took it readily, happy to touch the younger man in any way, shape, or form. "Don't mention it." Reluctantly, he let go when Devon's grip eased. With a satisfied sigh, he looked around. "Well, we got it all up here." He rubbed his belly, getting dirt on his polo shirt, but it was old so he didn't mind. "What say we go eat?"
"I'm up for that," Patty chimed in, wiping her own hands as she came toward them.
There went that hesitation again. Devon was friendly enough, butwhen he thought he was imposing, he shrank away better than any violet. "That's okay, I'll just--"
Patty clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward the front door. "Don't even try it. I carried up everything that's in that kitchen, and I know there's no food in there. You're a young, healthy boy, and you need your vittles." She shoved him toward the door hard enough that he stumbled. "Besides--" She stepped after him, halting the protest he almost threw over his shoulder. "--Steven is a professional cook. You should not pass up an opportunity to eat anything he's prepared, even if it's reheated."
"You're a cook?" Devon asked as Steven joined him on the landing. Patty had brushed past and was starting down the stairs.
Smiling, Steven put a hand on the back of his shoulder and guided him after Patty. "I am."
"He's certified and everything," Patty threw back. "Works as an assistant at a coffee shop across town, although he deserves better. He drives the whole street crazy when he's got the windows open. The smell drives 'em nuts."
Devon threw a wide-eyed stare over his shoulder.
Steven chuckled and shook his head. "She exaggerates."
"She does not," Patty argued. She stopped at her own door. "You boys go on ahead. I'm going to change into a cleaner shirt."
Steven saw Devon frown after her as he passed by the younger man on his way to his door. He held it open once he got there and sneaked another admiring glance at the boy as he passed into the apartment. Although he was almost certainly not gay, that didn't mean Steven couldn't look his fill as long as he didn't make the boy uncomfortable.
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