Vengeance (The Protectors 5)

He was also very different from Memphis just based on his size. My guess was that Tristan was 5’9 at the most because I always had to look down at him which meant Memphis would as well.

An image of Memphis leaning down to brush his mouth over Tristan’s suddenly ripped through me and I actually had to quell a moan as my cock twitched in excitement.

Fuck, what the hell?

“You all unpacked?” I asked as Tristan walked around the bed and plopped down on it. He toed off his shoes before climbing up on the bed so he could sit next to me, his back against the headboard. Tristan wasn’t a skinny guy, but he was definitely on the leaner side. He’d never been one for sports or working out, but he was still fit. It just came to him naturally.

“Not even close,” Tristan said with a smile as he handed me one of the spoons.

One of the things I loved most about Tristan was how much light seemed to shine from him. It was the only way I could really describe it – he just shone. All the time. Even with the shitty hand he’d been dealt from the moment he’d been born, he still smiled all the time. He still made every effort to draw those around him out until they were smiling or laughing along with him. And it wasn’t in a reckless kind of way – it was more like he understood the value of life and lived each day like it was his first and his last.

“Thank God my dads stocked the freezer,” he said as he lifted the pint of ice cream. It was no secret that Tristan had an obsession with Neapolitan ice cream. He hated all other flavors and even as a kid, he refused to eat the three flavors of strawberry, chocolate and vanilla on their own – it was Neapolitan or nothing for him when it came to his ice cream.

I ignored the rush of sensation that gripped my body as Tristan shifted to put the top of the ice cream container on the opposite nightstand and brushed my arm with his. It was another thing I liked about Tristan – his need to touch or just even be physically close to others. And it wasn’t in a sexual or needy way. It was more about his innate need to be open and affectionate. I suspected a lot of that had to do with his family, but some of it was just inherent to who he was as a person. But as much as I liked the little affectionate touches and the lack of concern when it came to his physical proximity to me, they were was also a unique form of torture.

Logan and Dom had brought Tristan home the day before, but they hadn’t started moving him in until this afternoon. I’d been at work so by the time I’d gotten back to the apartment, Tristan had been mostly moved in and Dom and Logan were saying their goodbyes. I’d been both excited and worried about being around Tristan again, since I hadn’t seen him in a while and the fact that I’d be going from having limited contact with him to basically being around him nearly 24/7 hadn’t been lost on me. In fact, I’d been tormenting myself with that very fact for weeks. But the second Tristan had wrapped his arms around me in a giant hug, I’d felt something in my world shift and fall into place. If friendship was all I could have with him, I’d take it. Yeah, suppressing my feelings and my physical desires would be tough, but it would be bearable. Not being a part of Tristan’s life wasn’t.

“You know they ordered you a piano, right?” I said as I turned the volume on the television down a little bit.

Tristan sighed. “Yeah, I figured.”

Tristan had been playing the piano for most of the time I’d known him, and Dom and Logan had nurtured his natural talent from day one. Although they weren’t the type of parents to spoil their children, despite their excessive wealth, they’d spared no expense when it came to furnishing both their homes with Steinway Grand Pianos that cost more than my entire undergraduate education at UCLA. The pianos were way too big for our small apartment, but I’d heard Dom and Logan talking about where an upright piano might fit when they’d first come to the apartment to check it out before we’d signed the lease.

“You don’t sound excited,” I said as I watched him take a bite of the ice cream. I nearly smiled when he diligently made sure he had every flavor on his spoon.

“I am,” he said as he glanced at me, a small smile gracing his pretty lips. I ignored the urge to lean over to lick the tiny spot of ice cream away that was clinging to his upper lip. Of course, when he reached out to swipe his own tongue over it, I felt my already hard cock jump in response. I was insanely glad I’d had the sense to keep my jeans on instead of changing into a pair of sweats like I usually did before getting into bed.