How Deep the Bonds Pt. 03

Welcome to Part 3 of How Deep the Bonds! In this chapter we get to know Yasmine and Darius more. Hope you enjoy! All characters are mine. Everyone in sexual situations are over 18.

Yasmine & Darius

Early Winter 2012

Darius woke with a pounding headache, a roiling stomach, and totally nude. He was in Yasmine's bed. He squeezed his eyes closed once more and took a deep breath. Turning carefully so he wouldn't jostle his stomach too much he looked at Yasmine, assessing whether she was awake or not.

She lay on her side with her back to him. Yasmine was, indeed, awake. Her head was not pounding, but she was naked and chewing on her thumbnail silently. She felt the moment Darius woke up, heard his slight groan, the shift of his body under the blankets. She wondered if today was the day he would regret it.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest wondering if karma would kick her ass. She thought of Cyrus and the time they had hooked up and how she had so quickly run out on him spouting off excuses. She dreaded the day Darius came to his senses and put an end to whatever they were doing.

Darius hiccuped and groaned again, he was trying to be quiet, since he didn't have any idea if Yasmine was awake or not. He breathed deeply as nausea rolled continuously in his stomach.

"Please don't puke in my bed," Yasmine said quietly, rolling over.

"I won't," Darius promised.

He pushed himself to a seated position slowly.

"You know it's quite insulting," Yasmine said, a note of sarcasm lacing her words.

"What is?" Darius asked, holding a hand to his head and one to his stomach as he settled back.

"Vomiting as soon as you see who you're sharing a bed with," Yasmine said with a smile.

Darius smiled, he would have chuckled if his head hadn't been pounding so much. He wasn't sure why he'd let himself get so drunk.

"God, why the fuck did I drink so much last night?"

"Patrick egged you on," Yasmine said, examining her nails.

"I hate that fucking guy," Darius said tiredly, blowing out a sour breath.

"He treats Cyrus like shit," Yasmine said pushing herself to a seat as well.

Darius swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"I'll be right back," he said.

"Are you OK Darius?" Yasmine asked.

"I'll be alright," Darius said again. "Just give me a minute."

He stood up, bare hairy ass on display as he made his way across the room. He disappeared from the bedroom, closing the door behind him, which muffled the sound of the bathroom door latching.

Yasmine sighed and opened the window of her room. It was too stuffy. The smell of stale whiskey and sex permeated the air. She flicked the fan on as well then climbed back into bed.

Darius was a cuddler. It had surprised her in the weeks they had been sleeping together. He didn't seem to be the type, but when they were alone, he would curl around her, burying his face in her hair, holding her close.

How the two had started sleeping together was a bit of a muddled mystery. She had been diligently working on art pieces for her show. Cyrus had originally been her go-to guy for reviewing her pieces, but then he met Patrick.

Cyrus was around less and less, nearly unreachable by cell. His time was eaten up by work and Patrick. Apparently, he was still seeing Sheryl as well, which Darius and Yasmine knew was a point of contention for Patrick, who demanded all of Cyrus' time, energy, and cock. His monogamous intensity bordered on a territory dispute.

Yasmine had started asking Darius for feedback on her art. She was surprised by his insights and knowledge. It probably helped that the show's focus was him and Cyrus.

The bedroom door opened again, and Darius returned to bed with a heavy sigh. Wrapping his arms around Yasmine, he pulled her down with him, curling his body against hers. She could feel his flaccid dick, rubbing against her ass and she wiggled against it playfully. Darius huffed out a little laugh and squeezed her. His breath smelled fresh and minty.

She reached up a hand and ran it through his dark hair.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Mmm, I'm fine," Darius said. "Feel a little better, but my head is still killing."

His hands moved over her small breasts, holding each in turn, thumbs running over her nipples, gradually bringing them to points that he rolled between thumb and forefinger. Yasmine put a hand to Darius' hip and stroked up and down his skin slowly.

He kissed her shoulder, planting a row of them along her neck until his nose was nuzzled into her hair. He breathed deeply and his hips rolled forward. What once was flaccid gradually stiffened as he stroked her soft skin.

"Yasmine," he grumbled into her hair.

"Darius," she whispered.

Her hand stroked over his hip, then dipped between the two of them where she found his thickening member. She closed her hand around the shaft and stroked from base to tip slowly. Darius grumbled out a moan and rolled his hips forward again, driving his cock through her ass crack.

Yasmine turned her head, and her lips met Darius'. She sighed contentedly as his fingers continued to twist her nipples, his tongue tracing her lips and plunging between them. She shifted to her back, and he drove his tongue deeply into her mouth. She matched his enthusiasm, tongue swiping along his, into his mouth. The head of his cock rubbed on her thigh smearing moisture that dribbled from his slit.

"Yasmine," he moaned again, nearly whimpering.

He shifted slowly, kissing her breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn, then he planted a long row of kisses down her stomach, pushing her thighs apart. He kissed down one thigh then up the other, letting his breath waft over her sex as he teased her.

"Darius," she whined. "You fucking tease."

He smiled at her, then brought his tongue to her opening. She gasped roughly, knees falling wider. His tongue swiped up between her moist labia. The taste of her burst in his mouth and he groaned at the flavor of her arousal. Her fingernails raked over his scalp slowly, sending goosebumps erupting down his neck and back. His cock twitched and he thrust it slowly against the mattress.

Yasmine groaned as Darius' mouth closed around her clit. The tip of his tongue flicked over it, and he sucked lightly. She gasped again, warm moisture gathering in her pussy. He slid his tongue back down through her labia again and circled her opening, lapping at the moisture there, leaving his own. He pushed his tongue in briefly, then licked back up to flick her clit again. Her hips rolled and she pushed his head hard against her body. He brought two fingers up and slid them slowly through her slit before he pushed them into her entrance.

"Ugh, Darius," Yasmine whined. "Yes, ah!"

The soft warmth of her vagina enveloped his fingers, and he groaned again as he flicked her clit. His fingers moved slowly, stroking up and down her walls as he pumped them in and out. He closed his mouth around her clit again, flicking and sucking. Her hips began to roll more quickly, and her hands were clamped to the back of his head.

"Oohhh, Darius, don't stop," Yasmine panted. "Yes, yeah, yeahhhAH!"

Yasmine's back arched, she pressed Darius' head firmly to her, thighs shaking madly, breath coming in sharp fast pants, as his fingers moved in her quickly. The warms walls suddenly constricted around them, squeezing hard over and over until she lowered again, her panting slowing.

Darius pulled his fingers out of her and sucked them clean with a mischievous grin. He hovered over her his dripping cock poised at her hot wet entrance. He kissed her mouth and thrust his cock into her. He moaned as he slid into her, and she pushed her hips up to meet him.

"Ugh, Yasmine," Darius groaned.

He began to pump into her quickly, his breath rapid and uneven. She wrapped her legs around him urging him on. After all these weeks she knew what drove him crazy.

"Oh fuck!" he grunted.

He pulled his cock from her quickly, thrusting onto her stomach once before it erupted sending hot streaks up her skin. He panted hard and pumped through his leavings a little. His face was pale, and he pushed off her quickly.

"Sorry," he grunted quickly. "I'll be right back."

He left quickly and slammed the bathroom door.

"You OK?" she shouted after him but heard no reply only the sink and fan running in the bathroom.

She lay there panting holding a hand to her forehead, her eyes closed. She wasn't sure how long she laid that way when the warm swipe of a washcloth startled her. Darius stood over her naked, with a small smile on his face. He was cleaning up his mess with a damp washcloth.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey honey," she stroked over his hairy arm. "Are you sure you're OK?"

His cheeks flushed, but he let out a little chuckle.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just a fucking idiot."

"You know," she said with a playful glint in her eye. "It's pretty insulting to vomit right after eating a woman out."

Darius chuckled again and shook his head. He took the washcloth back to the bathroom and returned to bed where he burrowed next to Yasmine again. He lay his head on her chest, petting a hand over the soft skin of her stomach.

"We're going to have to tell him," Yasmine said.

Darius' petting paused and he replied, "Yeah, I know."

"I don't know how to tell him," she admitted.

"Neither do I," Darius said.

"We should tell him before the show," Yasmine said.

"Probably a good idea," Darius confirmed.

"Do you think he'll be mad?" Yasmine asked. Darius was quiet for a very long time. "Hon?"

"I'm gonna puke," Darius said, getting out of bed again quickly.

Once more, Yasmine was alone in bed. She pondered how to tell one of her lifelong friends what had been going on right under his nose and the guilt was crippling.

~~

Winter 2012: Four Weeks Later

The evening air was chilly but not biting as Darius and Cyrus walked from their dinner spot to the art gallery. The two men hadn't seen Yasmine all day, but both had spoken to her multiple times on the phone as she ironed out details and had small panic attacks about her show that night.

It was her first solo show, and she was nervous. Of course she wanted her art to make an impact, be included in the narrative of the art culture of LA, but she also wanted it to be authentic and real.

Yasmine's show was titled How Deep the Bonds and was a series of portraits of Darius and Cyrus. The two men had seen one or two of the larger pieces. Yasmine had sought out their approval for the ones she had rendered in oil on canvas, the pieces that took the most time and dedication to complete. Cyrus' favorite had been a recreation of a photo his mother had taken shortly after Darius' family immigrated from Iran.

The two families had come together for a picnic where little Cyrus had been drawn to Darius. Although 4-year-old Darius spoke only one or two words of English and Cyrus only spoke very basic Persian the two played together all day.

The photo was of the two boys standing side by side, faces smudged with dirt from the playground. Sweaty and smiling, although somewhat shyly in Darius' case, Cyrus had his little arm flung over Darius' shoulder hugging him close. Darius' eyes were not focused on the camera but on Cyrus' face, showcasing as much appreciation as a four-year-old could muster.

"I'm excited to see the finished product of that picture from when we were kids," Cyrus said.

"Which one? There's that water park picture," Darius said with a laugh.

"Ah yes, when we were fighting over Rebecca," Cyrus said. "I think she really liked you."

"I think she really liked Yasmine," Darius countered.

Cyrus laughed then shrugged.

"Maybe. She did spend much more time with Yasmine anyway," Cyrus said.

"What do you think the sketches will be like?" Darius asked.

"I'm not sure. Yasmine didn't show me any of those. Did you see any?" Cyrus asked.

"Nah," Darius said quickly.

This was the part Darius was most nervous about. Yasmine had been so secretive with the sketches. They were smaller, while still framed and hung they would be less eye catching. Yasmine had seemed conflicted about one of the sketches. She had talked to Darius about it without giving him too much detail.

She felt it needed to be an oil on canvas, but worried about the content of it. Darius' face had reddened when she asked him about it, wondering if it had anything to do with him and Cyrus hooking up for a time two years ago. But she had waved a hand at him when he asked her outright and said if she did make it a canvas, she would run it by them.

Yasmine stood at the door of the gallery, looking radiant in a fitted top, long skirt and sensible flats. She shifted from foot to foot nervously. The men were surprised to see her there. They were about thirty minutes late for the gallery opening and there was already a crowd milling around inside.

"Yasmine, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be inside mingling?" Cyrus asked as he approached her.

She smiled nervously as he planted a kiss on each of her cheeks. Darius followed suit, their gazes snagging for a moment as she began to reply.

"Oh, yeah. I was waiting for you guys," she stammered.

"Are there critics here? You should be in there talking to them," Darius said a slight scolding to his voice.

"Yes, yes, I know. It's just..." she looked down at her feet. "I did something you guys. I... I... well." She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Jesus, Yasmine. What's going on?" Cyrus asked, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

"I made an oil on canvas you two haven't seen and I... well, it's very popular. I wasn't expecting the sort of reception it's receiving and... now I think I should have asked you guys or kept it a sketch..." Yasmine said.

Darius' face paled as she sputtered on while Cyrus' flushed hotly.

"What picture is it, Yasmine?" Darius asked quietly, although he was pretty sure he already knew.

"Just... just come see," Yasmine said.

She twisted her hands together, wringing them hard enough to make her knuckles white. The men walked in, barely registering the gorgeous art around them that tracked their long friendship over the years.

Yasmine led them to a large wall blocked from street view, where a moderately sized oil on canvas painting hung. It depicted the two men on the couch in their shared living room, faces close, nearly kissing, mouths open in yearning. Cyrus' hand gripped an obvious bulge at Darius' crotch while Darius grinned holding Cyrus' neck lightly.

It was a scene she had nearly walked in on when they were being less careful. Clearly, they had been so enamored with each other they hadn't heard her bedroom door open. When she caught sight of her two friends locked in a clearly intimate situation she stopped, held her breath and slowly backed up down the hallway, trying to be silent. She had closed her door as quietly as she could and then roughly sketched the scene into her notebook.

"What the fuck Yasmine?" Cyrus said his eyes widening at the small crowd gathered around the painting.

Yasmine felt her face flush hotly. Cyrus was usually chill, so his more aggressive reaction set her on edge.

"Cy, come on," Darius replied.

"No, really what the fuck? That's... that's so..." Cyrus sputtered turning to Yasmine, eyes shining with tears.

"That's really beautiful," Darius said.

"Thanks Darius," Yasmine said worriedly.

She twisted her long hair around her fingers watching Cyrus' face. He was glancing around the room like a nervous rabbit.

"My parents are coming to this show Yasmine," Cyrus spat at her.

"I... I know Cyrus what --" Cyrus cut her off savagely.

"They don't fucking know," he hissed at her. "I haven't told them I'm bi and you put this on the fucking wall??"

"What do you mean? I thought." Yasmine swallowed hard. "I thought you told everyone years ago. You came out Cy!"

Yasmine thought she was going to cry. She wracked her brain trying to remember Cyrus telling her that he had come out to his parents. He had been out to his coworkers, all of their friends, for years now. She spoke of it casually with her own parents and Cyrus never said anything about that.

"I haven't told my parents," Cyrus groaned out. Now he looked like he might cry. "How could you include this without even asking us Yasmine?"

"It's... It's... the whole show is the evolution of your friendship. It was... it was... pivotal," Yasmine said.

"It was also fucking private!" Cyrus shouted.

Several people turned as his voice echoed through the glass and concrete gallery, carrying over the quiet music that played in the background.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know that..."

"I have to fucking go," Cyrus said. "Before my parents get here and rip into me. This is embarrassing enough."

Cyrus nearly ran out of the gallery, pushing the door open roughly. Darius looked between Yasmine and the door Cyrus had just left through.

"Yasmine," Darius said cupping her face. "Why didn't you just ask us?"

"I... don't know. I'm sorry," Yasmine said, shaking her head.

Darius sighed and stared at the painting again.

"It is really beautiful," he said. "I should go after him. I don't think he should be on his own right now."

"Yeah, of course," Yasmine said. "Tell him I'm sorry. Did... did you know he hadn't come out to his parents yet?"

"Well, not technically. He never said if he had either way," Darius said. "Anyway, you could take that down before they get here?"

Yasmine's face fell, shoulders sagging and Darius knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

"They stopped by already," she whispered.

"I can't believe they were on time," Darius replied.

"They were here before the doors even opened. God, I feel like such a shit," Yasmine said.

"I'll go after Cy," Darius said.

Darius left, glancing briefly at the rest of the paintings on his way out.

Yasmine excused herself to the bathroom and allowed only a few seconds of tears before she wiped up her running makeup and reapplied her lipstick. Then she left the bathroom and began mingling again. She waited for the two men to return, looking hopefully towards the door each time it opened.

But she knew she didn't deserve their forgiveness. She knew why she hadn't asked them, deep down she knew. She was afraid they would say no, and the piece added so much to the collection as a whole. It was a huge piece of their story, and she didn't want to leave it out. She just hoped that Cyrus could forgive her.

~~

"Cy, wait up! Slow down man." Darius jogged after Cyrus.

Luckily, he hadn't called a car yet and was just stalking angrily straight down the street. He had been easy to find. Cyrus stopped abruptly and turned to face Darius.

"I can't believe this! Can you believe this?" Cyrus demanded as tears streaked down his cheeks, which he wiped away angrily.

"I'm surprised yes," Darius said.

"Why the fuck are you so calm? You're in that picture too," Cyrus said.

Darius shrugged, but he knew why. He had been sleeping with Yasmine for weeks now and she had hinted at it. When he saw her standing outside the gallery, he had already known what he would see.

What's more is the painting was beautiful, the composition of it, even the memory of it. He'd had a good time with Cyrus. He still felt bad that Cyrus had been so hurt in that situation. For Darius it truly was just good sex. But it had been more for Cyrus and that memory probably still stung.

"She said she was sorry. I don't think she meant to hurt us Cy," Darius said.

Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"Will she take it down before my parents see it?" Cyrus asked.

"Oh, uh," Darius winced. "They were there already. Got there on time."

"Fuck, FUCK!" Cyrus shouted. "The one fucking time they actually show up early..." Cyrus trailed off.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew who it would be. When he pulled it from his pocket he saw his mother's name. He ignored the call and turned his phone off.

"For what it's worth, I don't think she knew she was outing you," Darius said. "Honestly, I assumed your parents knew too."

Cyrus gaped at Darius for a second then shook his head.

"Why would you think that? I never said that. I never told either of you that I had come out to them," Cyrus said.

"Well, you also never explicitly said you didn't either," Darius said.

"Oh, my god," Cyrus said throwing his hands in the air with an irritated laugh. "Darius, take a fucking second and think about who my parents are. My mom thinks gay people are made up, just a sexual fetish of perverts and my dad is a near constant womanizer who takes advantage of my mother's naiveté. What about that situation makes you think they would be safe people to share my sexuality with? I mean back before I came out, I never even took girlfriends to meet them."

When Cyrus put it that way it seemed obvious that he wouldn't have told them. But from Darius' perspective, Cyrus' parents had seemed pretty normal. Admittedly, he wasn't their child and was not a queer man, so his perspective was a tad skewed.

"I'm... yeah, you're right. I guess Yasmine and I just have a different view of your parents," Darius said numbly.

"Duh, Darius," Cyrus said meanly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, and now Yasmine has fucking outed me. It's so wild that it's her, my parents say the most vile shit about her when she's dating a woman," Cyrus said off handedly.

"Come on man, don't be a dick just cause you're mad. Cut her some slack," Darius said.

Cyrus stared at him for a second, the anger working behind his eyes was a little alarming.

"Why are you defending her so much?" Cyrus said. "She fucked up."

"I know she fucked up," Darius said holding his hands up in surrender.

"So why are you defending her so much?" Cyrus shouted again.

Darius held out his hands and tried to think of something to say. His cheeks flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I... I... I just think her intention wasn't to..." Darius sputtered. "I mean when we've talked about things..."

"Did you know about this?" Cyrus demanded.

"I mean, not really! She never said it directly. Cy, I would have told you," Darius said, acutely aware of the fact that his statement rested on a technicality.

"Would you have told me though? You guys have been awfully close lately. You're jumping to each other's defenses so fast. I can barely joke around with you two anymore without one of you biting my head off." Cyrus squinted at Darius. Then his eyes widened suddenly. "Oh my god... you're sleeping together!"

Darius' eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He chest tightened and he wished that he and Yasmine had had the courage to tell him before that night. Cyrus didn't deserve to find out like this when he was already boiling in anger.

Cyrus scoffed roughly and dropped his crossed arms. He pulled his phone from his pocket again switching it back on. It immediately started ringing, his father's name flashing across the screen this time. He ignored the call and pulled up his text messages.

"I'm going to stay at Patrick's tonight," Cyrus said, swiping at his eyes quickly.

"Come on Cy, Patrick's a dick," Darius said.

"You think every guy I sleep with is a dick," Cyrus said with a glare. "Patrick is shallow, but he's nice to me."

"Only because he thinks you're hot," Darius muttered.

"I am fucking hot Darius!" Cyrus shouted. "I can't have this conversation with you right now. Go back to the fucking show. I won't be home tonight."

"Don't stay at Patrick's," Darius said.

"Don't, tell me what to do Darius! Go home with Yasmine. You two can fuck each other wherever you want tonight. If I'm not at Patrick's, I'll go to Sheryl's. But I won't be home tonight. Fuck you guys!" Cyrus screamed and stalked down the street turning a corner to get out of Darius line of sight.

He was annoyed that he'd told Darius his backup plan if Patrick was too big of an asshole tonight. He didn't want Darius to think he was right in any aspect tonight. He was so sick of his two friends ganging up on him, telling him he wasn't around enough, telling him that everyone he dated was awful. It stung way too much having the two people closest to him, two people that had rejected him, tell him repeatedly what assholes he dated.

Maybe those two should look in the fucking mirror, Cyrus thought to himself as he texted Patrick to find out where he was.

Patrick was already out partying. He told Cyrus he should come meet up with him. So, Cyrus called a car and headed to West Hollywood.

~~

"Ugh, he said he's staying with Patrick?" Yasmine winced.

Darius sipped at the glass of wine she'd handed him.

"Patrick's or Sheryl's," Darius said.

"I like Sheryl," Yasmine said. "I don't know why Cy doesn't just date her."

Darius shrugged. He thought about saying something mean but knew he would regret it. He already regretted too much about tonight, truthfully the last several weeks.

"Do you think it's a bi thing?" Darius asked.

"What's a bi thing?" Yasmine asked.

"This whole dating multiple people at the same time. Do you think it's a bi thing?" Darius asked.

"If you'll recall, I'm also bi and not dating multiple people," Yasmine said shortly sipping her champagne. "Besides, plenty of straight people date more than one person at a time."

Darius sighed and ran a hand roughly through his hair.

"No, I know. It's just --" Darius began.

"It's a Cyrus thing Darius. Cyrus has always dated a lot of people at one time," Yasmine said.

"What? No," Darius said walking to a grouping of sketches depicting the two friends' foray into D&D.

"Um yes, hello, remember high school?" Yasmine asked.

"Yeah, he was with Sandra our entire senior year," Darius said.

"Right, but freshmen to junior year he dated nearly every girl in our school," Yasmine said. "I shouldn't have included this one," she said pointing to a sketch that depicted her with the boys.

"No. I think it belongs," Darius said brushing his hand over her arm quickly.

Yasmine's arm erupted in goosebumps at his touch, her stomach flipped warmly. She fought a blush that threatened to bloom on her cheeks.

"It ruins the flow," she grumbled.

"If you say so," Darius said with a shrug, sipping his beverage again. "Now you mention it, you're right. Cy has always dated a lot of people."

"Until he finds one that he likes enough to slow down," Yasmine said.

"Hopefully Patrick won't make him slow down," Darius said.

"Don't be mean," Yasmine said. "I don't think he will anyway. Patrick is too shallow for Cy and obviously not special enough to not date someone else. There's always Sheryl."

"I think you like Sheryl more than Cy does," Darius said dryly.

She looked up at him with a blush on her cheeks. Darius looked down into his wine glass with a scowl.

"Are you OK, hon?" Yasmine asked, bumping his hip a little.

"Yeah, just... Cyrus yelled at me. Like screamed at me before he walked off," Darius said and sipped his wine again.

Yasmine's brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry. Was he mean?" Yasmine asked.

"No, he was just mad. He yelled at me that he's hot," Darius said.

"Well... he's not wrong," Yasmine said. Darius rolled his eyes. "You must have thought he was at least a little hot. You had sex with him."

"You have no room to speak on that subject my dear Yasmine," Darius said leaning down and winking at her.

"I never said I did. Why did he yell that he's hot to you?" Yasmine asked. "Did you call him ugly?"

"Of course not, I don't have a death wish," Darius scoffed. "I said Patrick is only nice to him because he thinks Cy is hot," Darius said.

"Geez, Darius," Yasmine said glaring up at him. "I'm glad he yelled at you. That's harsh."

"I know, it's just... he figured out that we were sleeping together. He just sort of said it. It wasn't even a question," Darius said shifting his gaze to her.

"Did you... did you confirm it?" Yasmine asked.

"I didn't really say anything, which I guess was confirmation enough for him," Darius said, setting his half full wine glass on one of the empty catering trays.

~~

Yasmine and Darius stood out in the cold night air waiting for their ride to arrive.

"I really fucked up tonight," she admitted. "I should have told you both about the painting and we should have told Cy about us... weeks ago."

She sighed and her eyes glittered with tears.

"Yeah," Darius said after a moment. "Hopefully he'll give us another chance to be better."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed her head as her arms wrapped his torso.

"I'd be fucking devastated if I lost him," Yasmine said still fighting back tears.

"Give him the night, maybe he'll feel more forgiving in the morning. I'll text him tomorrow and see if he wants to get brunch," Darius said, swiping a thumb under her eye.

"What if I ruined everything?" she said. "What if he won't forgive us and I've totally destroyed a years long friendship for all of us?"

Her voice was loud and rough as she began to cry. Darius shushed her smoothing her hair back. Around the corner of the building, Cyrus stood watching his two friends, listening to their conversation.

He had met up with Patrick, but he was already wasted and too annoying, flirting with everyone else and ignoring Cyrus even after he told him he needed attention tonight. Sheryl had been out and told him to go back to the show and try to reconcile with his friends.

Cyrus had been standing outside the gallery, trying to work up the nerve to go back in, when the lights flicked off. Darius and Yasmine came out a few moments later, saying goodbye to the docent and waiting for their ride.

He felt tears rising in his eyes again as he eavesdropped on their conversation. A toxic mixture of guilt, anger, and hurt swirled through him. He had no idea what to do or where to go. He deeply wanted to forgive his friends right there, but he simply couldn't. So, once Darius and Yasmine got into their car and left, Cyrus finally answered the calls that had been ringing on his phone all night.

"Hi mom," he said. "Before you say anything, I have to know, can I stay with you tonight?"

He expected her to say she had no son anymore, or his father to call him a disgusting faggot or something. But to his surprise his mother burst into tears shouting at him about how worried she had been all night when he wasn't answering her calls, that his father was going to call the police and of course he could stay, he would always have a room at their home.

Cyrus, stunned, said he would be there in 30 minutes and called a ride to take him to his parents' house.

~~

Cyrus' phone jingled at around 9am. He was sitting at his parents' kitchen table, dressed in a T-shirt and athletic shorts from his high school days, sipping tea his mother had insisted on making for him. His parents had been weirdly fine with his sexuality. They had mostly been upset about how they found out and that everyone knew except them.

He explained as kindly as he could why he hadn't told them, leaving the part about his father's habitual infidelity for another day. They seemed to understand but were still hurt. They had questions about his safety, his health, which were only minimally inappropriate and none of their business, but that was the usual for his parents.

He looked at his phone. It was exactly what he expected. Darius was asking if he was alright, and if he wanted to get brunch. This was why his mother had insisted on tea; he wouldn't let her make him breakfast.

"I'm going to meet Darius and Yasmine for brunch," Cyrus said.

"Is this a good idea?" his mother asked. "She may have done me a service last night, but she broke your trust."

"I know," Cyrus said, knowing there was so much more to it. "But they're my best friends. I think I should hear them out."

His mother nodded and leaned back in her chair sipping her tea.

~~

Cyrus was early to brunch. He got a table for the three of them and ordered coffees. Out of habit, he doctored up his friends' coffees to their preferences.

"Cy, you're here already," Yasmine said.

"Yeah," he replied, gesturing to the two chairs across the table.

He purposely didn't get up to greet them as they usually did and Darius scowled at him. Cyrus was satisfied to see Yasmine elbow Darius for the scowl.

"You got us coffees," Darius said.

"Yes, well," Cyrus glanced at the menu. "I was early."

Darius sipped it carefully, then said, "You didn't poison it did you?"

Cyrus let out a humorless laugh.

"Darius, knock it off," Yasmine said.

Cyrus shifted his gaze to Yasmine. The conversation he'd eavesdropped on last night swirled in his head and his chest felt like it was caving in. He too would be devastated to lose their friendship, but he was so angry. It had only been a day, several hours, after all, but it didn't feel like it would ever dissipate.

"Cyrus," she said when he turned to her. "I'm so sorry for last night. I well and truly fucked up. The painting I included was very intimate, very personal and you were right, very private. I should have asked you if I could include it."

"Thank you," Cyrus said, sipping his coffee.

"I've asked the gallery to take it down," she said.

"What?" Cyrus and Darius said in unison.

"When did you do that?" Darius asked.

"I called them this morning while you were in the shower," Yasmine glanced over at Darius. "They said they would take it down."

"Yasmine," Cyrus said, scraping a hand over his forehead. "If you take it down, it's going to look... incomplete."

"I'm not going to sacrifice my relationship with you over the aesthetics of my art show Cyrus," Yasmine said vehemently. "You are too important to me. You have always been there for me and --" she was cut off by their waitress approaching slowly.

"Hey, folks, so sorry," the waitress said looking uncomfortable at the realization she'd interrupted something. "Can I get any food going for you?"

"I haven't even looked yet," Yasmine admitted glancing at the menu.

"I'll give you a few minutes," the waitress said.

"We'll let you know when we're ready," Cyrus said a little too sweetly.

The waitress nodded then slunk away.

"Before you continue," Cyrus said abruptly. "I don't want you to take the painting down. I... I talked to my parents last night."

"Oh! Holy shit," Darius said.

"Patrick was being an asshole." He paused to see if they would say anything then continued. "So, I called my mom. Her and dad were surprisingly chill about it."

"They were?" Yasmine asked. "I'm so glad!"

"They just had some inappropriate, nosy questions about my health and safety. They don't really get it and hope I end up with a woman in the end, but they said they love me no matter what so," Cyrus shrugged. "I guess you did me a favor."

Cyrus' voice dripped with sarcasm, and he looked back down at the menu. Yasmine flushed.

"Come on man, don't be a dick," Darius said.

Cyrus leaned forward and whipped off his sunglasses. His eyes were full of sorrow, anger, and hurt.

"I'm allowed to be mad, Darius," Cyrus said. "It turned out fine, but there was no way to know that it would end up that way. It could have been so bad."

Darius looked abashed and hung his head a little bit. Cyrus sat back, tossing his sunglasses on the table and rubbed his eyes.

"Besides, which, that's not the only reason I'm so... so fucking hurt."

His voice cracked and it made him want to smash his coffee mug. He was deeply hurt by them, but he didn't want to show them that.

"I know," Darius said quietly.

"Do you know how... how difficult seeing that painting was for me last night? To see that part of my life again. To relive that rejection, presented by another person who rejected me." Yasmine stared down at her lap. "The worst part was it was really fucking beautiful. God, you're so fucking talented Yasmine. Truly, it was so beautiful, and it just reminded me of how... how wrapped up I got in you, Darius. The whole little... the fucking life I built of us in my head."

"You slowed down," Darius said quietly, truly realizing for the first time, what that situation had meant to Cyrus.

"What?" Cyrus asked confused.

Yasmine shook her head.

"It's nothing, just your... you know your pattern. You date everyone all the time, until you find someone special and you slow down," she said.

Cyrus stared at her open mouthed for a minute then let out a small sigh.

"I guess that's true," he said. "So, yeah, I slowed down Darius."

"We should have told you Cy," Darius said. "We should have told you right away and we didn't."

"I feel like such a fool, like such an asshole. How could I not notice that two of my best friends have been fucking each other? In our shared apartment?" Cyrus said, his voice laced with wonder.

"We're the assholes man," Darius said.

"Besides, you've been busy! Work has been crazy, and you started seeing Patrick as well as Sheryl, you just had a lot going on," Yasmine reasoned.

Cyrus regarded his friends for a moment, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He slid his sunglasses back on.

"Yeah, I've been busy. And selfish and self-centered," he said looking over the menu again.

"No Cy, come on," Darius said. "You were just living your life. We were sneaking around, keeping secrets from you. I think we were the ones who were selfish and self-centered."

Again, Cyrus regarded his friends then looked back down at the menu.

"Cy, can you forgive us?" Yasmine asked. "Please?"

Cyrus sighed, still staring at the menu. He wanted to, desperately, but he was still angry. He hated feeling the white-hot rage in his chest, the burning behind his eyes, the general devastation of his heart.

"Not today," he said, quietly. "But maybe eventually."

"Maybe?" Darius said, a hint of anger in his voice.

Cyrus looked up.

"Yes, Darius, maybe. Right now, I can't conceive of it, but maybe that will change," Cyrus said. "Are you two staying to eat?"

Darius and Yasmine glanced down at their menus and picked them up.

~~

Cyrus returned to their apartment with them after brunch. He asked Darius if he would prefer to share a room with Yasmine now. When Darius sputtered out a tentative 'sure' he nodded and began helping him move his stuff to Yasmine's room. Afterward, he closed the door to his bedroom and turned on some loud music for a couple of hours.

Things got a little less tense and awkward with each passing day. Yasmine's show got stellar reviews that Cyrus started cutting from newspapers or printing from websites and hanging on the fridge. Critics were calling it deeply personal, intimate, and quietly moving.

After about two months, Cyrus felt much less raw and hurt by his friends. They stopped talking about what an asshole Patrick was, although Cyrus knew what they thought. He eventually accepted that Patrick was not the man for him and broke things off with him. Sheryl began dating another woman more seriously and ended things with Cyrus. Darius tried to be more supportive when Cyrus would talk about people he was seeing.

"Who are you going out with tonight?" Darius asked one evening as Cyrus got ready to go out.

"Steve," Cyrus said.

"Steve is nice," Darius said.

Cyrus looked at him in the bathroom mirror.

"Steve is a slut," Cyrus said with a smile. "That's why we get along so well."

Darius let out a laugh as Yasmine came into the hall.

"What's funny?" she asked.

"Steve's a slut," Darius said.

Yasmine scrunched up her forehead and said, "Steve is nice!"

Cyrus and Darius laughed again.

"Anyway," Cyrus said pushing past the two of them to slip his shoes on. "He's introducing me to his friend Anita tonight. She's visiting from New York."

"Oh, that'll be fun," Yasmine said.

"Maybe," Cyrus said. "I was hoping to get Steve to myself tonight, but." He shrugged.

Darius came up behind Yasmine and wrapped his arms around her torso. Cyrus watched them and for the first time since they started showing small displays of affection towards each other he felt a warmth seeping through his chest and realized he might have healed a little bit.

"What are you two doing tonight?" Cyrus asked.

"Watching Battlestar Galactica," Darius said.

"Again? You guys are such nerds," Cyrus said.

"I like it!" Yasmine said, as Darius nuzzled her neck.

"You're too cute," Cyrus said. There was a pause while the three of them silently acknowledged that Cyrus had never said that to them before. He shook his head quickly. "Anyway, I should go."

"Have fun tonight, Cy," Darius said.

"You too," Cyrus said, starting out the front door. He paused then turned around again. "Hey, um I love you two you know."

Yasmine's eyes pricked and she smiled.

"Love you, Cy," she said.

"Alright see you later," he said.

~~

Darius and Yasmine had seen Battlestar Galactica over twenty times. As such the two were twined together making out on the couch as the show played in the background. Yasmine relished the feel of the harsh prickle of Darius' stubble as it rubbed over her chin. Although his cheeks were rough his lips were soft and full. Their tongues twined together slowly as they enjoyed the simple act of making out.

As Darius kissed her, she could feel warm moisture pooling between her legs. His hand fondled one of her breasts, running his thumb in circles over her stiffening nipple. As his mouth moved to her neck, she was suddenly all hot want and desire. Her fingers laced through Darius' hair, and she let out a long panting breath as she wiggled inelegantly out of her sweatpants, tossing them to the side. She lay back on the couch; arms open in invitation.

Darius' arms snaked around her body, pressing her chest to his, lowering himself between her spreading legs. He groaned at the feel of her breasts, even only pressed against him through their clothing. His body responded to the pressure, sending blood rushing south. He rolled his hips against her. A moan worked up her throat as she rubbed the damp crotch of her underwear over the hardening lump in Darius' pants.

"Yasmine," Darius grumbled as she pressed hard against him. "Fuck."

He slid his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slid them off quickly, tossing them towards her discarded sweatpants. She smashed her lips to his once more, tongue working forward madly, heart beating frantically. Yasmine groaned and rolled her hips over his hard cock again. Then brought her hand down to stroke it, her knuckles swiping over her clit.

"Darius, yes," Yasmine moaned.

She rubbed his erection over his clothes, half the time using her hand, the other half using her sopping wet pussy. Darius pushed her shirt up, shoving one cup from her bra aside and took her nipple into his mouth. Her head tipped back slightly as he sucked on it, rolling it between his teeth, bringing the most beautiful moans and grunts tumbling from her mouth.

She ground against his hard cock again and he bucked up against her as he massaged both breasts in his hands. Her hips began to move more quickly over the bulge of his cock. He looked down and could see the wet stains discoloring the fabric of his pants.

"Oh! Darius!"

Yasmine brought both hands to his pants, fumbling with the button and zipper. She pulled his pants open and shoved her hand inside where she found his hot hard cock, dripping madly. Carefully she pulled it out through the opening in his underwear and pants, stroking him slowly.

"Oh god, Yasmine!"

Darius bucked again, his cock continuously leaking precum. She groaned and rolled her hips.

"Darius," she moaned, holding his eye contact.

She took his cock and ran the tip of it from her clit, down her slit, to her wet entrance and back again. He made a whimpering sound and bucked his hips.

"Yeah?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

She smiled and traced his cock back down the warm wet path to her entrance again, then he slowly pushed into her.

"Ooohhhh," she moaned as he slid into her.

"Fuck," Darius whispered.

Her silken walls enveloped him, and he twitched when her hips rolled again, grinding her clit against his abdomen.

"Ah! Darius!" Yasmine panted.

He pulled her close to him as his hips began to pump into her. His face was buried between her breasts, and he could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She began to buck up towards him as he thrust. A warm prickling heat grew between them as they panted together.

Yasmine gripped hard at Darius' ass urging him to pound into her faster, the heat in her pussy growing to an almost unbearable temperature. She felt the constriction of her orgasm and threw her head back as she wrapped her legs around him surrendering completely to the explosive feeling.

"Darius!" Yasmine said, her back arched slightly. "Yeah, Oooohhhh god!"

"Yasmine! AHAH!"

Once Yasmine orgasmed her walls tightening splendidly around Darius' primed, throbbing cock, he couldn't hold himself back. His cock spurt inside of her mightily.

"Oh fuck! Oh my god, AH!"

Darius panted and twitched as he rode the ebbing wave of his orgasm. The loudest orgasm he'd ever had. They smiled and closed their eyes. He rested his forehead on hers as they caught their breath. The two lay that way for a few minutes then slowly got up to get themselves cleaned up.

They settled back on the couch, cuddled together, basking in each other's presence.

Thank you so much for reading! Next week we jump far forward in time, so don't miss it! xoxo, JS