Parsons

(A/N: As this is my first story/series, feedback/comments are always appreciated. I make sure to read all comments/reply to feedback and I sincerely thank you guys for tuning in for every update. It's super motivating.

I'm also not too familiar with the standards of each genre on Literotica yet, so I did want to say that some chapters could have less explicit sexual instances than others. I want sex to be helpful to the story instead of having to conjure up a scene out of nowhere just because. I hope that's alright.

Thank you for your patience.)

-

Landon and I spent the night together nearly every day for two weeks after my last day of therapy. With most of our words exchanged after the second time we hooked up, we prioritized making each other feel amazing. We made it work with our unique schedules, which sometimes meant rushing into work with my hair wet or testing out the sturdiness of his desk when he had to stay late.

Landon was the one who had taken a honeymoon trip, but I was sharing the bliss that came from it. The hate sex had been a great start, and every session after that left us satisfied. As his introduction to sleeping with men, I was eager to please his every wish. Curious was an understatement - the moment he realized he was an adult with sexual autonomy and lack of experience, he wanted to try everything. The shy, purity-ridden moralist I used to call my friend, the one who changed the subject at 28 years old when I told him my first boyfriend and I had gone to third base, was now eagerly suggesting that we try a double-sided dildo. In case you're wondering, yes, I was a fan.

There were other things I didn't love, though. 30 felt a little too old to try poppers. I didn't like going to clubs that made my ears ring. I especially didn't like waking up in bed at Landon's new apartment only to watch as he scrolled on dating apps. Naturally, an argument broke out, but he brought up an undeniable fact: we had never discussed dating.

"I just downloaded them right now, anyway! Can you tell me with full honesty that you haven't been seeing other people while we've had this going on?"

"I haven't, no." It was the truth. They were still downloaded, and I was still getting suggestive emojis late at night, but they hadn't been touched since our.... whatever this was started.

Dead end. Landon sat in front of me on my bed. "Look, Heath. I want to be with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you're the one I want to be with."

I made God a mental promise to donate the entirety of my next check if this was the end of the topic.

"But..."

Too good to be true, I guess. "Landon, you said you love me."

"I do! I do," Landon assured, putting a hand on my knee, "and I love you too much to lie to you. It just feels like I'm being given a second chance to remake myself. I just did what I was taught for ten years: I stayed with the girl I was told I needed; it feels like being renovated. You wouldn't get it."

I was scared that thinking about that take too much would lead to something ugly. I shrugged. "I guess not. I don't understand what you want, then."

"Again, I want you," he reiterated, "and I want you by my side in this journey, whatever it entails."

That was too vague for my liking. "Spit it out, Landon."

"I'd like to try having an open relationship with you."

-

When we were 22, Landon, Bradley, and I celebrated graduation with a weekend trip to Landon's family cabin. Calling his parents wealthy was an understatement - this mammoth mountain house was only one of five of the Belhomme's vacation homes.

For a pair of guys who were just able to start drinking legally, not having a single drop of alcohol during a trip was catastrophic for Bradley and me. At the time, Landon was as opposed to drinking as his parents. He proudly shut down our proposals to drive to the nearest gas station to at least get some warm wine coolers.

We had waited until Landon went to bed to sneak out, carefully not to roll down the incline and lose our lives before they began. Even though we got a little lost, Bradley and I managed to drive back with our treasures.

We used a tiny flashlight Bradley had attached to his keychain to look for the wooden stairway. When he turned in, Landon had turned off all exterior lights.

The longer it took us, the more we realized being in unknown woods with a dim light source and dead Nokias was risky. Holding our bottles to our chest, we cursed at the clouds for covering our best source of sight.

Then we heard a gunshot.

"Brad!" I called out. Any concern about being silent was gone with the firearm's echo.

"Fuck! Run!" Bradley urged, dropping his bottles and accidentally running right into me. I fell onto my bottles, broken glass digging into my back when Bradley came on top of me.

"Bradley! Heath!" a voice called out as the lights of a nearby cabin flicked on. This included the pathway torches that illuminated the staircase only two feet away.

Landon looked down at us in fear, holding his father's hunting rifle. He carefully set it down and ran down the stairs. "What the hell are you guys doing here?!"

"Did you shoot him?!" Bradley asked, agitated as he rolled off me and inspected my body. I sat up to the of my ability, croaking in pain.

"No, you imbecile, those were blanks! He fell on that!" Landon reached us, pointing at the glass that was half crushed on the ground, half impaled on my back.

Bradley broke into apologies that lasted to the nearest hospital, a noticeably small building forty minutes away. While Bradley sped down the highway, I argued with Landon to take the glass out. I had grown up pretty hyperactive, so I had my share of injuries throughout my youth. None of them compared to that. I had to spend the night, deal with aftercare on my own (Landon was too scared to tell his parents), and pay off my hospital bill with all the savings I had gathered since I began to work at 16. Bradley helped as much as he could, but it barely covered X-rays

It was a horrific experience, both physically and financially - but somehow, after Landon finished his sentence and waited for my response, I longed for that ache instead.

-

"You piss me off, Heath."

"I know."

"You actually, genuinely, fully piss me off."

Aaron was giving me the chew-up of a lifetime. He had been supportive when I said I wanted to try things with Landon. He had mixed feelings when I told him I stopped seeing Dr. Jackson but was ultimately okay. The open relationship part, which I brought up while I drove him to the airport, had his eyes full of disappointment.

He was offered a remote position at his workplace, which involved two days of training out of state over the weekend. The studio was being renovated, so I had enough free time this Friday to grab food after Aaron got off work with his coworkers. Gill and Kiara were a delight, but based on one or two looks I got, I wondered if Aaron shared my misadventures with them.

Hopefully, he wouldn't share this one. "I was having sex with other people before we got together anyway! What's the harm?"

"That you let this guy get away with everything. Have you met up with anyone since you said yes?"

"Of course!" Not at all. The requests still haunted me, but not enough to click just yet.

Aaron saw right through me, resting his head on the glass of the passenger window. "You're so full of shit."

"Why does it matter? He comes back home to me anyway." Okay, I stole that phrase off of Twitter, but that wasn't the point. "Aaron, he loves me. I can't be mad at him for being vulnerable enough to tell me he wants that."

"What about what you want?" Aaron asked. "Did he ask what you wanted?"

"Yeah!" I nodded, looking at him as we pulled into the airport drop-off. "We agreed we can't have sex with people we could have romance with. Relatives off limits - obviously, that's for me only."

I parked the car and flicked the emergency lights on. "All I'm saying is that we talked! That was what I wanted. I can do this just fine. I finally have him, Aaron," I whined, helping him take his luggage out of my trunk. "Can't you be happy for me?"

Aaron tightened his scarf. The chill of December just meant he could accessorize more. "Of course I can, Heath. I just don't want something messy to happen again, and I have to put you together again."

I slammed my car's trunk harder than usual, making us jump. "Oh, so that's what this is about? You treating me like some project."

Aaron rolled his eyes. "No, Heath, it's about how I've had a front-row seat on watching you try to leave this exact behavior behind and then dive back into it as soon as this guy says he loves you."

"You don't have to watch, Aaron!" I said as he stepped onto the sidewalk. I made my way to the driver's side. "If this works for me, it works for me, okay?"

Aaron looked troubled. It wasn't that I wasn't thankful for him - I owed him too much for being there for me - but while my methods weren't perfect, they got me results. I had a man who loved me that knew me better than anyone, I had permission to screw around without guilt, and now I even had Hulu back.

He walked up to the passenger window, tapping carefully. Hesitant, I rolled the glass down. "Can you just be my friend? Please? I don't want to argue over this with you of all people, Aaron. I want to be able to have this with Landon and know that you'll still call me for drinks or karaoke or to keep hanging out with your friends."

Aaron twisted his lips in agreement. "Gill did already invite you to his birthday party." He rested his arms on the door, observing me. "You're not work for me, Heath. I just... want you to be happy. Healthy. After everything I've seen, is my reaction out of place?"

"No," I admitted, "but I did get better. I'm looking out for myself more, I promise. I'm sorry I got mad at you. I just need everything to have been worth it now. I know it will be with you in my corner."

By the way he lingered, I could tell he didn't believe it just yet, but he resigned. "I will be. I'm not going anywhere. Let me know when you get home, though, okay?"

"Get me a magnet or something. See you Sunday!" I called out, exchanging a wave and watching until he was inside the airport. I looked at the rearview mirror in case any cars were waiting. With a minute to spare, I finally looked over the messages I had gathered those past weeks. This was going to work because I was going to make it work.

-

Carlos, 36, DTF, sat in front of me at a poorly illuminated C-shaped booth in Alessandro's. He was cool with seeing each other that same night but needed to make sure I wouldn't kidnap him.

I didn't appreciate his laughter when I brought that message up. "Sorry, I just can't believe I was worried. You're so small."

Carlos was incredibly jacked, as if 10 Aarons had morphed into a walking protein advertisement with a shaved head. It wasn't that I needed to check a bodybuilder off my bingo card, but he was easy on the eyes and available - half of a good standard, but good enough to show up.

We went through the usual first round. Name, hobbies, asking about one random detail on our profiles, confirming we were clean, the works. He was more impatient than I was, though, scooting over beside me and placing my hand on his bulge, continuing our conversation like nothing.

"I did wanna say kissing is off limits," I announced, rubbing my hand over his jeans.

He exhaled through his nose every other second. "That's fine by me. Any preference?"

"Nah, I'm vers," I shrugged.

-

With both of our cars being sports models and Carlos' lack of patience, we had found a secluded spot behind the building, illuminated by a moth-surrounded lamp. How romantic.

Carlos was biting the skin on my neck, my back against the weathered brick. He leaned against me, his hand stroking my cock as he tried to leave some hickeys.

I was pretty excited before we began, stiffening myself when he reached into my pants. Any day before this, I would've been enjoying myself and making sure he did as well.

This time, though, I looked across the alley without amusement. It wasn't that it felt terrible, nor was it Carlos. I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't... pleasant. My cock was hard, I just couldn't continue.

"Hey, is it okay if we stop?" I asked.

Carlos instantly let go of me. "Yeah, man, sure. You okay?"

It wasn't comfortable to put my cock back in my pants, but I knew it wasn't what I wanted. "Yeah, don't worry. It wasn't you, I promise. I do stuff like this all the time," I apologized, buckling my belt.

"You don't have to answer for that. Sometimes it just ain't there," Carlos nodded respectfully. "Ey, maybe if I go back inside, I might still find that beer."

I smiled. "I'll walk you back."

Carlos and I fixed ourselves a bit, and I strolled back to the bar with him. I got him a beer, thanked him for his time, and returned home.

The entire drive back was heavy. I didn't know if I was supposed to feel embarrassed, shocked, or confused. Maybe I was out of practice from being with Landon these past weeks. He was out of town until next week to visit his parents' home, around an hour's drive outside the city, so meeting up with him was out of the question.

I couldn't quite see myself trying again, though. Maybe I was destined to be the other guy. The one people felt sorry for when Landon would tell them he was in an open relationship. They would think I was either a sad fuck who worshipped his partner to an unhealthy degree or assume I was the one who had proposed this without knowing I had no game.

It was seven p.m., and I was home on a Friday night, most likely the whole weekend. My friendship with the guys from college had fallen out since the bachelor party. Any coworkers of mine or Aaron's were busy. Even Elote was spending the weekend with Aaron's mom.

How lonely is adulthood supposed to feel before you question if you're the problem?

I entered my apartment and tidied up before grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch. A million shows, and none of them caught my eye. Neither did socials. With nothing else to do, I opened my email and finally got to deleting junk, sitting up as my eyes fixed on one from two days ago.

It was an email from someone called Dalton Pagliari, who Google informed me was the founder of the same frame company Fawn had convinced me to apply to months ago. By the time I had applied, they had already found someone to take the spot Fawn had rejected, but he had managed to get a hand on my portfolio personally. While they were looking for a modern look for the new default backdrops for their paintings, he had me in mind for another project.

I didn't care how late it was. I called Fawn immediately.

She answered after a few rings, the loud sounds of traffic in the background. "Heath! Hi! You okay?"

"Yeah! Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"We're just going to a party! Why are you calling so late? It's nine here!"

Whoops. Thank God it was Friday. "Yeah, I'll make it quick. Do you know a Dalton Pag- Pagl-eye..."

Fawn laughed. "Yes! He owns the frames I told you about! I showed him your stuff!"

I brought a hand to my chest, shaking a bit from excitement. "Fawn, I owe you everything in the entire universe. He wants to do a video interview next week. Do you know what he's gonna ask for?"

My phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Probably spam. I sent it to voicemail.

"No cl-," the sound of honking interrupted her. She spoke louder. "No clue! But just know he's one of those who acts uptight but is such a sweetheart! And he pays a lot! Huh? Oh- it's Heath! He's the one from Parsons- Yeah, the one that sent us the painting for our anniversary! Heath, Savannah says hi!"

My phone buzzed again. Same number. Jeez, these thieves were determined. I rejected it again.

I hoped she could hear the smile in my voice. "Hi Savannah! I'll let you guys go, then. Be safe! Talk soon! And thank you again!"

"Let me know how it goes!" Fawn spoke, ending the call.

I couldn't stay seated at that point. It was the best news I had received in such a long time. I tried not to go into fantasies, but it was hard. I imagined calmly spending the whole day with brushes, grabbing a cup of terribly overpriced coffee I could now afford. Maybe a shitty apartment close enough to a quaint restaurant that I could study at - I could get another degree. I could pay off my debt. I could fix my credit and get a loan for a car.

My phone rang again, and it was the same number. I could also finally tell off whoever kept calling.

"Hello?" I asked, making sure they felt my annoyance.

"Good evening, am I speaking with Mr. Heath Aldrin Diaz?" a woman asked.

I wasn't new to this. "Who's calling?"

"I'm calling on behalf of St. Luke's Baptist Hospital. We have you listed as Gerald Aldrin's emergency contact."

Any elation I held onto was ripped away at the mention of the name. My mouth hung open, unsure of what to say. I couldn't be rude to a hospital employee, but she had just dropped one of the last names I ever wished to hear.

"He uh... he's my dad."

"Thank you for confirming that, Mr. Aldrin-"

"No, Diaz," I corrected, my right hand grabbing onto the back of my head. "Just Diaz."

"I apologize, Mr. Diaz. Your father was brought into the emergency room approximately twenty minutes ago after being found unconscious by his spouse, but she had to step away to retrieve their children. He appears to have ingested dangerous amounts of alcohol. He's currently unconscious."

I swallowed, silent long enough for the woman to ask if I was still there.

"I'm here. I just don't get why you're calling me if she's gonna be there."

She seemed taken aback by the question. "Well, sir, he listed you as his emergency contact."

"Is there any way to take me off?"

That caught her off guard. I didn't blame her. "I- um-"

"Sorry that, um, that can wait for later. St. Luke's?"

-

I wondered how much gas I had spent on the drive over to the hospital. I wondered when Landon would call me once he saw all my missed calls. His family was always early to bed; I couldn't blame him. I didn't bother ringing Aaron, knowing he had an information-packed night. Every red light, as I sat in my car in silence, the reality drilled more into me.

I was all alone.