#lewships

Of course, Todd left no stone unturned. His entire room had been torn inside out in his search. He even interrogated his housemates about the shirt's whereabouts, suspecting a prank, but to no avail. Now Todd was sweaty, irritated, and dreading having to put his room back in order.

Truth be told, it wasn't a particularly special shirt. On first glance, it looked like any other button down in Todd's (formerly) impeccably organized closet. It wasn't more expensive, held no particular sentimental value, nor did he feel superstitious about it the way some of his frat brothers felt about a lucky hat that supposedly made them do better on tests or a pair of underwear that 'always' got them laid. It was just a nice shirt - light blue in a way that accentuated his eyes, sleeves that rolled up easily to showcase his forearms and whatever Rolex he decided to wear that day, with a collar that never seemed to wrinkle even when put through the most vigorous activities. Todd just liked it. It felt good to wear. He felt more confident in it. And it didn't hurt that one Professor Ben Mears never failed to compliment Todd whenever he wore it.

The thought of Ben made Todd glance at his phone and the notifications he'd ignored. There weren't many of them, unusual for a prolific texter like Ben. But before he could press the little banner on his screen, Todd's eyes flicked down to the time.

"Shit!" he swore, tossing his phone back down on the bed and scrambling for another shirt.

There was one appointment today he couldn't miss - a meeting with the new Dean of Student Affairs. He'd have to continue the hunt (and clean up his room) later on, much to his chagrin.

"Whoa, what happened in here?" Tom asked as he stepped into Todd's room minutes later, sharply dressed as instructed and painfully punctual. "One night stand gone wrong? Or really, really right?"

"Not exactly," Todd grumbled, stepping out of the bathroom, still clasping his cuff links. The shirt he ended up choosing was another blue one, slightly darker and with little white buttons at the points of the collar. It was an old, reliable button down, one of his first he'd bought as the president of KNA. Todd had considered wearing his newest dress shirt. After all, he was dressing to impress. But considering how the day had gone so far? A safe bet seemed to be the wisest decision.

Fortunately, he and Tom were so in sync with one another that the other man picked up the suit jacket on the bed and threw it over his shoulder, careful not to crease it. That was Tom all right, always one step ahead.

"Need anything else?" Tom asked, glancing around the room as Todd hastily shoved his keys and wallet into his pockets.

"No, I think I'm…" He paused, spotting the phone on his dresser before snagging it and slipping it into his only remaining pocket - the one on the front his shirt. "Good catch, Sunshine. Let's get going. I'll drive."

The meeting was…less than encouraging to say the least. That combined with lingering thoughts of Mitch's blow up at the pledge pick a few days prior (not to mention the day mostly spent tearing apart his room) led Todd to suggest grabbing a late lunch, his treat, a prospect Tom was more than happy to take him up on.

One perfectly-cooked medium rare steak and multiple beers later, and Todd Stevens was in a much better mood. The good food and cheap beer helped, but it was Tom's company that really helped lift the weight of such a shit day off his shoulders. Conversation was kept light - upcoming parties at other frats, hardass professors, and eventually romance. Or at least sex.

Tom had been telling him about some girl called Annabelle. He tried to act like it was a casual thing, but Todd wasn't stupid. He could see the soft look in Tom's eyes when he spoke about her, making a note to himself to find out who this elusive girl was and see about inviting her to the next kegger.

"And what about you?" Tom asked, turning the topic around so quickly that it took Todd a second to catch up.

"Me?" Todd said, pointing at himself. "Ahh, you know. Just the same old, same old. Meeting some chick on campus who's hot for me or at a party who wants to let loose. Nothing new."

"Really?" Tom asked, eyebrows raising in surprise. "I haven't seen that many girls doin' the walk of shame outta your bedroom lately. Pretty sure it's been a few months. Even before summer vacay."

Had it? Todd wondered, thinking back over the past semester, finding himself even more surprised than Tom when he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a hook up that didn't involve a certain annoyingly hot professor. Guess I'll have to up my game, he told himself, pushing down the strange pit forming in his stomach at the thought of sleeping with some random sorority girl who was more interested in his title and money than in him.

"I've gotten better about hiding 'em," Todd said, shooting Tom a wink. The other man's face visibly relaxed before he broke into a laugh, one Todd joined in on.

"You better not be makin' them climb out the window! You're on the second floor!" Tom exclaimed, still laughing.

"Well, there's that Magnolia tree right outside. I just tell 'em to aim for the branches," Todd said with a grin, chuckling when Tom guffawed, slapping Todd's arm in an involuntary show of amusement.

"Apparently that isn't running them off, seeing how your phone's been blowing up for the past 30 minutes," Tom said, pointing at Todd's phone, which just then buzzed, rattling lightly against the table. With the music so loud and the good conversation distracting him, Todd hadn't heard it make a sound.

"Huh, I hadn't noticed," Todd said, forcing himself to be casual as he picked up the phone and not snatch it up off the table. It couldn't be urgent KNA business or else someone would be texting Tom as well. Most likely wasn't his family; they knew he was busy the first few weeks of the new school year. So that could only leave one person who would message him repeatedly with zero shame.

Ben.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Todd knew Tom was talking, razzing him for being so in demand and blase about it, but he wasn't listening. He was thumbing through the messages he'd left unread, of which there were at least two dozen. Probably more.

Okay, definitely more.

And he sent pictures. Oh my God, what did I miss?

The first text that caught his eye was the very last one sent:

The words Mmm, feisty popped unbidden into Todd's brain. God, he loved it when Ben got angry. It usually led to the kind of sex where they fought over who was going to top. Todd normally won, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he hated when Ben won.

However, the smirk that curled his lips at that didn't last very long. One scroll up and the messages flashed in pieces before his eyes:

Oh no.

Oh God.

FUCK!

All at once, Todd stood up so abruptly that Tom visibly startled.

"Whoa, is everything okay, man?" Tom asked, tone genuinely worried. "You need me to get the waiter to get our check?"

"Don't bother," Todd said, his tone as stiff as other parts of his body were threatening to become. He dug around in his pocket, grabbing his wallet, and hastily throwing some bills on the table. "That should be enough to cover it."

As he grabbed for his suit jacket, not giving a damn if it wrinkled this time, Tom stared wide-eyed at the money in front of him.

"Todd. Hey man, this is way too much for the bill." Seeing Todd's hurry, Tom started hastily snagging his coat and phone, but Todd waved him off. The phone was already to his ear, the ringing impossibly drawn out as he impatiently waited for Ben to pick up the goddamned phone already.

"Give a good tip; keep the rest. You don't mind taking a cab back to campus, do you? I have some urgent business."

Todd didn't even wait for Tom's assent, already headed for the front door, walking swiftly and taking large steps. When he passed their waiter, he gestured back towards Tom.

"Left the money on the table. Make sure he gives you a good tip, darlin'."

And with a wink, he was out the door.

Naturally, Ben picked up on the very last possible ring. As if Todd's heart wasn't already hammering in his chest as he threw himself into the driver's seat of his car. He probably timed it that way to up Todd's anxiety even further.

Or he was debating whether he wanted to answer me at all, you fuckin' idiot, Todd thought to himself.

"Oh, so now you want to talk to me," said an extremely pissy Ben Mears. Todd could practically see him, arms crossed in one of his cozy sweaters, pouting in the way that always made Todd want to bend him over his desk.

"I am so sorry. It has been the weirdest fuckin' day." As he spoke, Todd hastily turned the car on, switching the audio over to the car's speakers so he could talk and drive at the same time. "The meeting with that new Dean prick was fuckin' horrible. I had to reschedule an inter-fraternity meet up last minute, and of course that tightass Richards from Lambda Beta Nu is gonna be up my ass about it like he always is when I cancel. And I didn't even get to work out this morning or else I woulda sent you a gym selfie. I had those grey sweats set out and everythin'."

The silence on the other end of the line felt indeterminable. As much as he wanted to peel out of the parking lot and break numerous traffic laws to get to campus as fast as possible, Todd waited. There'd be no point in risking life, limb, and multiple tickets if Ben didn't want anything to do with him, after all.

Finally, a sigh, the kind Ben usually did while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That does sound like a pretty shit day," Ben said, not bothering to hide how begrudging the words came out. "I guess I could see why you were too busy to answer."

Todd's whole body went slack in sheer relief, his head lolling back against the headrest.

"Thank God," he muttered under his breath.

"You started driving yet?" Ben asked. Todd lifted his head, looking at his phone as if trying to gaze into his hook up partner's face to read his expression. Unfortunately, the only thing that stared back at him was his own reflection, slightly smudged from his fingerprints.

"Uhh, no. Not quite yet," Todd admitted almost sheepishly.

"Good, good," Ben said offhandedly. "Stay there for now."

"Oookay…" Todd drawled, still staring at his phone, now in a state of confusion.

"So, I have a little…confession to make, Todd."

There was some rustling noises coming from the other end of the phone, like Ben was moving something around. When he heard a little groan, the same kind the professor let out when he was getting up off the couch or bed, things started to click. Ben was going somewhere.

"Haven't you noticed something different?" Ben asked, his tone not quite back to the level of teasing that it normally was when he and Todd played their little games, verbally prodding and poking at each other to see what would make each other tick. Todd took it as a positive either way, that Ben was willing to overlook being ignored enough to go back to their status quo. Whatever that was.

"Something…missing?" Ben prompted.

Earlier in the day, those words would've triggered something in Todd Stevens. Anger, maybe, for the literal hour that he spent combing through and tearing apart his room. Outrage, perhaps, for the audacity of a man he was just fuck buddies with taking something of his. Annoyance, definitely, for Ben finding yet another way to be a little shit and get under his skin. But this Todd was too focused on the here and now, on the sound of Ben Mears' voice coming through the speakers, wrapping around him, ever the devil on his shoulder.

When Todd didn't answer, Ben chuckled.

"Just sent you a text. Make sure you actually look at that one."

And with that, the call disconnected.

Perplexed, Todd pulled up their messages again, ready to comb back through them to see whatever missing clue would finally answer the impossible riddle his day had turned into. He expected to see that last text message again, the hot one where Ben threatened him. Almost like he's jealous. The words floated through Todd's mind, but he ignored them, shoving them back down just like he did to any feelings about Ben Mears that weren't annoyance, amusement, or pure lust.

Instead, he found a picture of a familiar sight - His. Fucking. Shirt.

Before he could get worked up into a lather, Todd's brain registered the rest of the picture in little pieces - light tufts of chest hair peaking out from where Ben had unbuttoned the front, a flash of skin that Todd recognized the very plush thighs that he'd had draped over his own shoulders on more than one occasion, the white fabric of the briefs Ben wore that clung to his lower half, exposing…

Todd was dialing Ben's number as he put the BMW into reverse. Unlike a few minutes ago time, the professor picked up on the first ring.

"Yeeeeessss?" Ben taunted. There he was. The annoying little fuck who liked to wink at him when they passed by each other on campus, knowing Todd would text him asking to hook up later on in the day.

"Get your ass over to my dorm, Mears."

Ben's chuckle this time was even richer than before, filled with the kind of smug amusement that never failed to drive Todd crazy.

"Aren't you going to say please?" he teased, but there was something in his voice, that deep, gravelly thing Ben did when he was turned on. Just as that picture had grabbed Todd by the balls, Ben was already hooked, too.

"Now," Todd practically growled, as he sped out of the parking lot, already mentally calculating the fastest, most efficient route back to campus.

The dinging of an open car door sounded from the other end of the phone.

"I'm already on my way."

BONUS:

Divider Credit -> @/strangergraphics

Images in headers (and texts) are not mine.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

The dissapating darkness desperately clung to the balcony’s bars, their inky shadows reaching out towards the bed in echoes of old, decaying bull pens. Last night, they had kept the world at bay. Now they caged Rhett’s body as the distant sun rose before he did for once.

The heavy dust had settled over the broken bannister like pure, virgin snow over the great plains. If he left now, the only proof of his existence would be the faint trail he had left upon it as he tracked the omega up the stairs. He remembered how the steps had creaked under his boots, interrupting their dance until his back had met the wall, and long fingers roped him back by the belt. The painting they’d knock down was still there. It would only take him only a few minutes‌ to fix it. Perhaps just a few more for the stairs, too.

But that was a fool's thought. That was how Rhett used to think. Sore bones sat up straight. His phone flashed 05:00. It was a routine as instinctive to him as it was for the cuckoo to fly south at the first sign of change, or for the bull to buck when the door closed behind him.

The body behind him stirred.

Rhett went deathly still. Well-worn excuses were locked and loaded, but a gravelly snore, purred into the pillow, held him at ease. His body received the order to stand, to follow the trail of clothes out the door and hit the open road once more. Yet, the city at rest really was beautiful in its own alien way. Not that it could compete with the prettier sight behind him. The cowboy didn’t need to aid his traitorous mind to picture how the greaser’s long hair haloed against the pillow, or to follow the highways of muscle to a welcoming, sleep-enriched smile. 

Under the setting sun that bruised the evening sky, Rhett had mapped out the stranger’s history with just his tongue and kiss-swollen lips. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t even stick around long enough to call it a one-night stand, yet he had spent the midnight hour committing him to a memory that he would surely let wither and die along with the rest of them. Each bone that never healed straight, every knife wound that engraved his flesh had made it tougher for each and every slight against it. It should have made Rocco twice as callous as his skin. Looking down at his own body now, for all the omega had scratched and pawed, not a mark was on the cowboy. But he could still feel his body holding onto the phantom promises vowed into his neck, and the sweet nothings drowned into the waves of his hair.

05:10 his phone warned.

Outside, the pigeons cried, and the starlings wailed. Inside, Rhett took a sip from the glass Rocco had left for him. Closing his eyes, he forgot the phone. Even the birds faded into the background as he listened to the injured turtle mosey around its enclosure before settling down under the makeshift home he’d been made. It was peaceful. Even his normally restless heart seemed to agree. 

It was then he realised the body behind him had stopped breathing. The moment dragged until it thinned out like the surrounding air.

As it disappeared into the rearview mirror, Rhett had promised Wabang that he’d never be stuck in one place again. When it was gone, the open road before him was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen, he could lean into the wind and tell himself he was free. Now the sweltering, oppressive urban breeze slid in like a thief through the window and bade him back under the covers with a quiet hush. 

Those blue-lit dancing eyes that first held him from across the bar followed him down from behind securely shut lids. Finally, Rocco breathed again and wove his arm through his, not pulling him back; instead, he brought himself closer and chirruped lowly into the valley between his shoulders. Rhett laced their hands together, tighter than any knot.

The softest whisper of his name called to Rhett more than the cheering, thunderous crowds of the rodeo. He pressed a kiss to Rocco's palm.

“S’alright, Ro’. Go back to sleep, I’ll be here in the mornin’.”