Triangular - a Dream Daddy fic

Part 1 - The Sleepover

 It has been two weeks since Amanda's graduation party, the last time I saw Robert. It was then that he told me how he felt about our relationship. Though I was disappointed, as I had been trying to make a move on him for quite a while now, I do understand that he needs time and I appreciate that he wants to improve himself before fully entering my life.

Amanda left yesterday morning. After triple-checking that she had all of her college necessities, I finally let go. I watched her pull out of the driveway for the very last time for a while, the world seemingly slowing down in the wake of her wheels. I have been in a daze since then, mindlessly doing absolutely nothing, and this evening I really need company. I tap out a message as quickly as my dad fingers can.

8:58 p.m. "Hey rob. You doing anything?" I don't have to wait long before he replies, which is surprising.

"uhh i guess not. sup?"

"I'm pretty bored right now. Want to come over and watch a movie or something?"

I press send, eager for his response. Thirty seconds pass. I sit down on my bed, still staring into the bright screen on my phone. Thirty more seconds. I set my phone down on my bedside table, still lost in its glare. Maybe he's busy... he could be... watering his plants. Wait, who am I kidding. The man is not responsible enough to own plants. Well, he does have Betsy. She seems to be in good condition. In fact, she seems rather happy with her life. Maybe he is fit to have plants? I continue to humor myself with this mindless banter, imagining silly things about Robert's private life for a full five minutes. I jump when I hear the piercing ring of a message on my phone.

9:06 p.m. "omw"? What on earth is that supposed to mean? Did he have a typing accident?

When I hear the grumbling truck engine outside my window, I can't help but smile. My heart flutters as I see a large shadow cast through my front windows.

"let me in or i'll starve to death out here"

I open the door with a grand flourish to be met with the man I have been dreaming about for two weeks straight. I look up at his dark and carved face, getting lost in it. His stormy and sulking eyes seem to be so adrift, unsure of what lies ahead and afraid to cope with it. Though he is smiling (as much as he does), I see that he is going through something rough. It makes me want to tightly hug him, lay him down, kiss him—wait. I can't. We are just friends right now. Friends that support each other.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" he coaxed with a teasing tone.

"No," I chimed back, trying hard to suppress a giggle. I begin to open my arms to invite him into a hug, but then notice that he is holding a large red duffel bag in one hand and a worn blanket in the other. "Those your killing tools?" I asked, nodding at the bag.

"Yes, if the night goes right." His playful and joking eyes suddenly darted around in embarrassment. "You don't mind if I spend the night, do you?" At first I am ecstatic; this is the closest I have ever been to—...then I realize that we can't. I would get too excited, and things would go wrong. I want to maintain the healthy friendship that we already have. But... maybe just for tonight. Friends have sleepovers too, right?

"Of course not! Just don't kill anything."

"No promises."

Instead of offering a hug, I just wave him in. He follows me to the living room, and I notice that he is taking his time with observing everything. I then realize that this is his first time being in my space. He sets his duffel bag down on the carpet next to the couch and takes a seat. He lets out a sigh, closes his eyes, and his relaxes his whole body. I am still standing there like an idiot, just taking in the sight of this man in his most pure state. I sit down on the armchair across from him, preserving the silence. I'm staring at him again: his bushy and furrowed brows, his large and well-structured nose. The way his dark skin sits neatly on his skull, and—did he shave? I notice that his scruff is cleaner, and has more of a shape to it.