Paul found it kind of remarkable. He never paid that much attention to his own home or where he put stuff – as long as it was functional and clean, he didn’t really care much. But Ace was able to see exactly where things should go, and it made a huge difference. It seemed obvious in retrospect that everything should have been like this to begin with, but only Ace had been able to see that.
This man was impressing him more and more. This was not a good thing.
This never happened to him before. All the men he’d fucked had been one-night only affairs, and usually well out of town.
And the thing was, he liked it that way. For Paul, every encounter was fired with that thrill of a first time, the uncertainty and the novelty, the rush of a new touch. By definition, a second time wouldn’t have any of that. He already knew what Ace’s body felt like, what his own cock felt like inside that unbelievable ass.
So why was he craving another ride?
He didn’t have much time to reflect on that as Ace moved from room to room, directing new placement for the furniture and giving Steven a running list of things to do, what to pack, what to store in the basement for the time being, what he might consider buying to help the showing.
Paul could tell that Steven was pleased with how the staging was coming. Ace was good about giving solid reasons for everything he was doing. Logic worked well on his younger brother, the telecommunications executive.
Ace even managed to scrounge up a couple pieces of art that Steven must have had left over from his college days.
“I can make this work,” Ace murmured, almost to himself. “Do you mind if I use this frame for a different print?”
“Man, anything you want,” Steven said. “I totally trust your judgment.”
“Steven, he’ll probably need a hammer and a picture hanger if that’s going on the wall,” Paul said. “Right?” he asked Ace.
Ace looked a little startled every time Paul spoke, which wasn’t that often.
“Uh, yeah, that’d be great,” he said. Steven went in search of the tools.
Ace turned back to the table with the artwork and bent over to transfer the newfound print to a better frame. Leaning against the door frame, Paul enjoyed the view under the pretense of watching him work.
Paul rifled his brain for something to say in those stolen moments alone. But his fear sensors overruled his other senses. Again.
“I’m trying to find a good looking girl for my big brother to bring as a date to the wedding,” Steven said to Ace, returning quickly with the hardware. “Maybe you know some single realtors? I’m not above playing matchmaker.”
That snapped Paul right out of his thoughts.
Ace glanced at Paul to see how he took that. Paul schooled his expression to detached amusement at his brother. He viciously stamped down any other emotions – longing, interest, conflict – and parked his face in neutral.
He caught a flash of disappointment in Ace’s eyes before they, too, put on a mask.
“Nope,” Ace said cheerfully. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone he could take.”
Mmmm, I could take you, Paul thought. All kinds of ways I could take you.
But not to the wedding. That cooled his thickening ardor quickly. He couldn’t take Ace to the wedding – or anywhere, for Christ’s sake. Not that he wanted to, right? Rules. There are rules for a reason.
“Aw, come on,” Steven said. “There’s got to be somebody. It’s not like he’s a bad catch or anything. He’s good looking! He’s a doctor! It shouldn’t be so damn hard for him to find a girl.”
Ace laughed, a little unevenly. “I might not be the best man to advise on how to find a girl.”
Steven grimaced goofily. “Point. But don’t you gay guys have all these women friends? All the women I know are dying to have a gay friend.”
Paul was getting mightily uncomfortable with the way the conversation had twisted. But he was relieved to note how easy it was for his brother to accept Ace’s sexuality, even joking about it. That was a good sign. Or might be.
“Well, I am unique in many exciting ways,” Ace said lightly. “I only have the one fag hag, and she’s married.”
Paul’s heart was beating a little too fast as his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in with the word ‘fag.’Time to get out of this.
“So,” Paul said, moving from his perch in the doorway. “Any more furniture for me to move, or are we going to talk about girls the rest of the day?”
“You in a hurry, bro?” Steven laughed. “Big date with your big TV?”
Paul gave him a stop-fucking-with-me look.
“No, he’s right,” Ace said. He hung the reframed print in the foyer and instantly altered the look of that space.
Then they headed outside, where Ace diagnosed several issues with the landscaping. It sounded like Steven had a lot of work ahead of him. No doubt he’d enlist Paul’s help.
“Before I leave, I want you to think about something,” Ace said carefully to Steven.
Steven groaned. “It’s the TV, isn’t it? You want me to lose the TV. I knew it.”
“No, not lose it,” Ace assured him. “Maybe find a new place for it in your home, though.”
Steven narrowed his eyes. “But this is where I watch TV. This is where I spend all my time in the house. I don’t want to completely mess up my everyday life just to sell this damn place.”
“I understand, really,” Ace said. “But here’s what every realtor will tell you: Women buy houses. Men buy garages and basements. A woman will come into this house and see that huge TV and dismiss this as a bachelor pad.”
“But won’t the guy she’s with be impressed? Won’t it make him want to live here?” Steven asked.
“You can’t assume she’ll have a guy with her,” Ace said.
“Yeah, they’re letting single girls buy houses all by themselves this century,” Paul teased his brother.
Steven rolled his eyes at Paul. “So, where do you want me to stash it?” he sighed. “The garage?”
“This is just a suggestion, but think about making the basement into a kind of man cave,” Ace said. “I know you don’t need one, considering your whole house is your cave. But it will definitely help women see themselves in the living room, and every married man will drool over the idea of using the basement as his own space like that.”
It was a good idea, Paul realized. Once again, he was impressed with how well Ace could not only transform the space but also use logic to get Steven to agree to things.
Paul could tell Steven was starting to buy the idea, though the idea of hiding his TV probably still chafed.
“And it could be good practice for you,” Ace offered. “In case your fiance doesn’t want the TV in your new living room, too. You seem like the kind of guy who needs a man cave.”
Of course, the words “man cave” made Paul think very different thoughts, especially when spoken by the object of his recent lust.
“Building a man cave sounds like more work than just moving a couch around,” Steven said. “I’m definitely going to need reinforcements.”
“I can send you the links to some Web sites that can help you out,” Ace said.
Steven nodded, his face telegraphing his deep thoughts. “Look, you’ve done such amazing things here, and I really trust you and your judgment. Do you think you could help me out again with the rest of this list?”
Ace looked torn. “Usually, my job is just to rearrange and point you in the right direction,” he said. “I don’t think David was intending me to do much beyond that.”
“I can call him, make sure you get paid more,” Steven said. “He told me your fee was being added to all my closing costs and stuff. I don’t mind tacking on more to that.”
Ace chewed on his lower lip briefly, and the vision jolted Paul again. Could he handle another day around this man without jumping him the second they were alone?
“I can probably come over Saturday morning, for a little while at least,” Ace said finally. “I’ll have to drive in from Lawrence, so let’s say around nine?”
Lawrence. He lived in Paul’s town. Once again, ho-ly shit.