Chapter Three – The Three Musketeers
Lyn noticed Brad first. It had always been that way – him searching for his best friend whenever entering a room, and Brad, as if guided by an invisible hand, turning to meet his eyes and breaking into a smile.
The last long eight years were gone in a flash when Brad turned on his heel, as he had always done before, his whole face lighting up with a grin as huge as the tropical sun waiting for them outside the rather unwelcoming and austere airport terminal.
Lyn said nothing. He only smiled back, the way El had told him made him look a bit like a dangerous gangster in a perfectly tailored suit – gangsta, El drawled the word, sticking out his tongue and asking for a kiss.
Brad probably thought nothing of mafiosos in designer suits and rushed toward him the same way he had always done over the course of their four years of college, like Lyn was the center of his entire attention, and the rest of the world didn't matter. He dodged the other passengers skillfully as they rushed out, his eyes never leaving Lyn.
"Fucking hell, man, you look awesome," Brad began, pulling him into a strong hug and patting his back. "You got LASIK or something? I remember you always worried about breaking your glasses by accident."
"Yeah, I didn't want to deal with the hassle of needing them all the time," Lyn replied, already tickled pink by Brad's noticing that simple detail about him.
Brad held him at arm's length, still patting his shoulders. "Is it my imagination or are you taller?"
"I doubt it," Lyn said. "But I exercise five times a week, so maybe that's it."
"You sure do exercise," Brad said, feeling his biceps through the jacket of his suit. "Wait till the girls see these guns. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Bella has already told her unmarried girlfriends that I have a couple of buddies coming that are total future husband material."
"Oh, really?" Lyn showed a little bit of teeth. "And how do you know that?"
Did Brad really not remember their last conversation before becoming strangers for eight freaking years? Or was he just choosing not to?
His tone must have come across as a bit harsh because Brad's smile dimmed a smidge. "Damn, man, no wonder you're such a great lawyer. I bet you make people piss their pants when you stare at them like that. Okay, so I suppose you're a player. Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm sure not all of Bella's friends are interested in marriage. You'll have fun, I promise you that."
Brad hooked one arm over Lyn's shoulders and began dragging him away toward the exit. As much as he wanted to correct his old friend's assumption, he didn't feel like now was the right time to do it.
Brad's body warmth seeped into his torso, reminding him of all the good times they'd spent together. Unimportant details faded from his mind.
***
"Is that who I think it is?" Lyn pointed at a guy in loose white linen clothes, standing with his back to them, who was studying the trunk of a palm tree like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
On their way to the resort, he barely had time to sneak a word in. Brad had chosen to bring him up to date with all the names of all the people who were going to attend his wedding. From the bits and pieces he absorbed, Lyn put together a few important aspects: Bella's family was truly well-off, and his assumption that Brad would love to become a country club member wasn't far off the mark; she had a younger brother Brad considered his current best friend – although not as 'best' as Lyn and Alexander; Brad worked as a stockbroker and was making tons of money – hand over fist, baby; and, most importantly, Brad and Bella loved to quarrel over how many kids they'd have – he wanted three, she only wanted two. But as the lady of the house, hers would be the last word on the matter, Brad had added, lifting both hands off the wheel for a few good moments that made Lyn frown slightly while looking at the road ahead and the way the dotted line seemed to swerve away from them.
"Yep. You could pick him out of a million, right? Tall fucker," Brad said with a chuckle. "Hey, Alexander, look who's here, man!"
Lyn squared his shoulders. He was shorter than Brad, and that had never bothered him, but Alexander's towering height had always gotten on his nerves. Everything came easy to the guy – good grades, looks, money, status, you name it. And he always acted like he couldn't care less that someone had handed him the world on a silver platter.
According to Brad, karma had hit him pretty hard for being such an arrogant asshole. Still, Lyn hadn't googled him and didn't know what sort of bad stuff had happened in Alexander's life. Now, a silly wish that he had done so before meeting his and Brad's best friend from college was taking shape in his mind.
Alexander moved slowly, with the same aristocratic boredom that had made him such a hit with the girls in college. Lyn did a double take when he noticed the unlit cigarillo hanging from the guy's lips, and the devil may care attitude that came with it.
"Lynton," Alexander said, taking the cigarillo out of his mouth and stashing it in his breast pocket.
"How're you doing, man?" Lyn said, taking in the asshole's handsome face.
Brad had gotten handsomer; Alexander had gotten plenty rough around the edges. His curly dark hair looked like it had been styled to look romantic and haphazard just in case its owner wanted to play the role of a pirate by accident. His hard jaw seemed squarer now, and his high cheekbones could, as always, cut like diamond. And he sported one-day stubble that contributed to his overall lackadaisical, yet attractive appearance.
"You're overdressed," Alexander remarked, ignoring his question.
There would be no hugs and reminiscence of the old days with this guy, Lyn thought. He was as obnoxious as ever. Why had Brad insisted on being friends with Alexander – and forced Lyn to be part of their trio – was beyond him.
Brad ignored Alexander's rudeness and closed the gap between them. He grabbed both Lyn and Alexander by the back of their necks and made them take another step toward each other.
"This is going to be so awesome, guys," Brad began with his usual enthusiasm. "It's going to be just like college. The three musketeers, one for all, and all for one."
Alexander didn't seem to share Brad's enthusiasm. He continued to stare at Lyn with his strange icy eyes, made to look even more intense by the bright light. "Bradley here must have started reading books," he said, nodding slightly with his head at Brad. "Or did you just see the movie?" he asked, finally releasing Lyn from the strange intensity of his gaze.
Brad laughed good-naturedly. Lyn had always suspected Brad of being the only person capable of accepting Alexander's natural nastiness without thinking anything of it.
"Bella made me watch that old thing."
"So you know that they were actually four, right?" Alexander insisted. He reached for his cigarillo, bit into it for a moment and then reconsidered.
Lyn couldn't imagine what could've made Alexander take up smoking. Could it be the long hours at work? Brad had mentioned that Alexander was now a heart surgeon, but he hadn't mentioned where. Lyn could picture Alexander working extra shifts, never losing his cool, always looking unruffled and unbothered. His cold personality had to be a boon for his career choice; doctors, after all, had to be unfeeling to deal with so much human pain and misery without losing a part of themselves. In Alexander's case, that part had never been there, so that was good.
"Yeah," Brad replied, still unshaken by Alexander's annoying habit of correcting everyone. "That's why you guys are going to meet my future brother-in-law pretty soon. He's our D'Artagnan, I'm telling you."
"I look forward to it," Alexander said in a tone that indicated the opposite.
"Awesome!" Brad let go of them to give them two big thumbs-up. "You two don't mind if I leave you so I take care of other guests, right? It'll give you time to get reacquainted and all that."
"Sure," Lyn said.
"No problem," Alexander said promptly at the same time.
"See you at dinner then," Brad said, walking backwards, still keeping his thumbs pointing at the sky.
"Yeah, see you," Lyn said as casually as he could. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with this asshole, but he had promised to play nice, after all.
"You have to change out of that suit," Alexander said. He gestured with his chin behind him, at the cozy cottage where they were supposed to room together. "That's our humble abode. Come on." Without waiting for a reply or a reaction, he grabbed Lyn's luggage – although no one had asked him for his help – and began marching toward the cottage.
***
At least, Alexander had given him enough privacy to change into more comfortable clothes, after showing him the bedroom and all the amenities. Lyn emerged from the room onto the open deck, feeling overly self-conscious. His designer trunks and polo shirt seemed unnaturally pretentious and he felt they exposed him to criticism, and he wished he had brought some gaudy Hawaiian shirts and neon floral patterned shorts, just to spite this rich fucker.
Alexander was sitting on the deck, his back to him, just like before. Lyn took a moment to stare at the hostile roommate he'd have to deal with for the next ten days. There was something just right about the way Alexander fit with the rest of the landscape. And his loose linen clothes were a better choice than Lyn's conservative trunks and ostentatious polo shirt. Without a doubt, Alexander would be more than willing to give him a run down on what didn't work about his outfit.
He moved slowly to join Alexander on the deck. "Since when did you start smoking?" he asked.
Alexander sighed, still playing with his unlit cigarillo. He made the thin cancer stick dance on the back of his fingers like the wand of a talented magician getting ready to perform a new magic trick.
"I quit. I am quitting," Alexander said. "I'm in the process of quitting or whatever. If you see me light this up, kick me in the nuts."
Lyn laughed, despite his initial decision to act as reserved as he could toward Alexander. A part of him longed for Alexander's coolness, because that would never be him.
"What's with the hairstyle?" Alexander touched Lyn's head, letting his hand move slowly over the crown and then drop at the back, lingering on the naked skin above the polo shirt's collar for a moment before moving it away.
"Don't tell me," Lyn said tersely. "You hate it." With Brad, he had fallen into the same patterns right away. Alexander was no exception. They had always quarreled about the least important things.
"No, I don't hate it. It suits the lawyer."
"Ah. But it doesn't suit me, the—please help me here."
Alexander chuckled and held the cigarillo between his thumb and index finger like he was seeing the thing for the first time in his life.
"It suits you. This new you. Now, the question is: do you think you managed to impress him? With your perfect suit, perfect haircut, perfect…" Alexander observed him, craning his neck and letting his head drop to one side. Lyn had a hard time maintaining eye contact. Alexander always cut to the bone; maybe it was the surgeon in him.
"Please continue," he said affably. He had handled opposing counsel from rival law firms, lawyers from regulatory agencies, tough people who hated losing just as much as he did. All that experience couldn't evaporate just like that. His obnoxious friend would learn that the new Lyn wouldn't just take his shit like always.
"You look good," Alexander said, a warm smile curling his lips.
It was insane to think Alexander Montgomery III could smile like that, but seeing was believing. Lyn didn't know what to make of it.
"Thanks. It's hard work."
"I don't doubt it. You've always been a hard worker. The most driven of us three."
Was that a compliment or a veiled insult? He never truly knew with Alexander. No wonder good-natured Brad had been the only one to seek a close friendship with him in a campus populated by thousands of students. As far as Lyn knew, Alexander didn't have any other friends. At least, he hadn't, back in college.
"So, how have you been?" Lyn asked, wanting to change the topic of his looks and what it took to secure them.
"Ah, highs and lows," Alexander replied. "Got married, got divorced, the whole thing."
"Really?" Although Lyn doubted many women would put up with Alexander's galling attitude, because of his many great points – looks, smarts, money – there had to be a kind soul out there who would be willing to take one for the entirety of womenfolk.
"Yeah." Alexander sighed.
"Any kids?"
"No, hell, no," Alexander replied, giving Lyn another long look, supposedly full of meaning.
"Of course. Throughout our college years, you only hooked up because you didn't have time for relationships. I suppose she wanted children, and you said 'no'."
The way Alexander's face changed made him feel like a bastard. He should've kept his mouth shut.
"No, that's not what happened."
A dejected-looking Alexander was a strange sight. Lyn felt an unpleasant prickle of apprehension.
"You'll find someone, I'm sure."
"Wow, do you have any more lame encouraging words for me?" Alexander asked with a snort. He put the cigarillo in his mouth and kept it there, munching on the butt.
Lyn felt his lips twitching. He was just trying to be nice, but there was no way that would ever work with this arrogant asshole. He grabbed the cigarillo from Alexander's mouth and placed it in his own pocket. The slightly wet end made him think of how he was practically touching Alexander's saliva and found it funny.
"Hey," Alexander protested. "That's mine."
Lyn dodged out of the way before Alexander could take his cigarillo back. He pressed one hand over his pocket and shot to his feet.
Alexander laughed. "Are you going to make me chase you?"
"You can't keep up with me, cigarette boy."
"That's a cigarillo, you ignorant ass," Alexander said, pushing himself up with the same calculated laziness as ever.
Lyn jumped back and turned on his heel, determined not to lose. Alexander's usual explosiveness into action was no stranger to him, and he should've seen it coming. In hindsight, he should have ditched the espadrilles in favor of being barefooted, like Alexander. Sand was getting in his shoes as he ran as fast as he could toward the beach. To his relief, their particular cottage seemed to be away from the beaten path, so there wouldn't be that many witnesses to their behaving like twelve-year-olds.
His morning runs were put to the test now. There was no way Alexander's smoke-filled lungs – when had he given up smoking? – would be able to keep up with him. But he could hear the other, rushing right behind him, his breathing labored, but far from showing signs of giving up.
The pleasant burn in his thighs reminded him why he always strove to be the best. He never lost. He'd definitely not lose to this annoying asshole. They were running close to the water now, and the wet sand made running harder. Lyn smiled as he imagined Alexander giving up, but it looked like his own strategy was turning against him. His right espadrille got sucked in, abandoning his foot, so Lyn had no choice but to stop after a few more steps. A wave swept in and carried it away, much to his annoyance.
Alexander wouldn't miss his chance; of course he wouldn't. He barreled straight into Lyn, pushing him down, but swiftly catching his head before it could hit the ground.
His chest was too tight. Alexander loomed over him, holding him, while his eyes twinkled with mischief. The way Alexander's hand burned into his skin was too much. Their bodies were also touching. Way too much.
"You asshole," Lyn growled. "I lost my shoe. Do you know how much that cost?"
Alexander wouldn't know. For him, things existed to belong to him or serve him. The fact that they cost money was of no consequence. It was part of why Lyn low-key hated the guy.
To his dismay, Alexander pushed himself up and ran into the ocean. Lyn straightened up, looking after him. As always, Alexander didn't care about ruining his clothes. He was disappearing into the waves now, although the water couldn't be that deep there. Lyn pushed himself up and winced at the state of his swim trunks, now covered in wet sand. Although he felt a slight chill, a sensation of warmth still lingered everywhere Alexander's body had touched him only moments before. A familiar tightness made him push himself up and brush one hand over his crotch.
It wasn't like he hadn't gotten any lately. Sure, he had last seen El – that way – weeks ago, but Lyn was more than adjusted and comfortable with using his own hand and appropriate motivational materials. When had he last jerked off, though?
He shook his head. Alexander was coming out of the water, victoriously holding Lyn's lost shoe.
"Wow, you found it," Lyn said, unable to hide his surprise.
He tried to focus on Alexander's face. The white linen glued itself to the guy's chiseled physique, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The wet fabric clung to Alexander's strong thighs, making him look as good as naked. During their college years, he'd used to be on the lanky side, but the young man from then had now grown into a handsome adult, seemingly composed of nothing but hard muscles.
There was also the obvious fact that Alexander's tool was on the exceptional side, even in its dormant state. Lyn couldn't say he was surprised. Alexander always excelled in everything under the sun. Or maybe underground; the demon belonged there, with all the tortured souls.
Yep, focusing on that arrogant, handsome face would have to do.
"I'm expecting something in return," Alexander said, holding Lyn's espadrille out of reach, taking advantage of his impressive height.
"Fine," Lyn said with a sigh. The cigarillo had gotten a bit wet, but it was mostly intact. He took it out of his pocket and pressed it into Alexander's palm.
A short shiver moved up his arm at the slight contact. To hide his confusion, Lyn grabbed his shoe and put it back on.
"I need to change," he said and began walking.
The burning question was: how and where would he masturbate, now that he had a roommate, and one as nosy as Alexander?
His best bet was to do it in the shower, of course.
TBC