Where We Left Off - Romeo Alexander

Tyler

Stumbling through the front door, Tyler twisted awkwardly to kick the door shut behind him. It closed to within the last couple of inches and then stopped. Sighing, he dropped his luggage to the ground with a harsh clatter and gave the door a firmer push. He looked up and spotted the strange hinge at the top. Rolling his eyes, he left the door for someone else to deal with and dragged his stuff further into the house.

“I’m home!” he called, voice echoing down the long hallway.

A wry voice to his right made him twist sharply in that direction. “With all the noise you’ve been making, I think the people a block over know you’re home.”

Tyler scowled at the man sitting on the couch. “Thanks for the help, Clay.”

The man who was both surrogate father and brother to him snorted. “Sounds like you were doing just fine on your own.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?” Tyler asked as he dropped the luggage at the entrance of the living room.

“At least once a day,” Clay told him warmly.

Tyler watched him as he sat cross-legged in the middle of the couch. Clay wasn’t what Tyler would have called pretentious, though he knew looks could be deceiving. He’d taken to coloring his dark hair. This time it was a bright streak of vibrant purple down the middle, but otherwise, it would have been plain brown. Clay’s one notable feature, however, were his blue eyes, bright enough to catch just about anyone’s attention.

“Nice hair,” Tyler said with a grin.

“Elliot keeps telling me I’m going to fry my hair,” Clay said, pulling at his bangs absentmindedly.

“You might.”

“Eh, I’ll just buzz it off, let it grow back, and try again.”

Speaking of the other man who fit the same surrogate role as Clay. “And where is your husband?”

For a moment, the sardonic, playful expression on Clay’s face softened. “Out back. He’s been waging a long battle with a gopher that won’t leave our yard alone.”

“I’m guessing the gopher is winning,” Tyler said.

“Yeah, but don’t tell him that. He knows he could probably call an exterminator, but you know how he gets about small critters.”

“Like you’re any better.”

Clay smirked, unwinding his legs so he could stand up from the couch. He padded across the room, feet bare and making no noise on the living room carpet or the hardwood floors. Tyler still didn’t know how he did that. The house the two of them had bought a few years back creaked mercilessly whenever he walked.

“It’s good to see you, kid,” Clay said, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of Tyler’s neck.

“You’re really going to keep calling me a kid when I’ve outgrown you?” Tyler asked.

Clay chuckled, giving Tyler’s neck a light slap before pulling his hand back. “You were a scrawny thing when I met you, and you’ll always be that scrawny thing. I don’t care if you shot up and bulked out like some mutant.”

“It’s called puberty. And I’m turning twenty-one, I can’t be a kid anymore,” Tyler protested.

Clay snorted, sliding past him. “Yes, you are.”

Tyler huffed but knew better than to try and argue the point. Sure, when they’d met, he had been a scrawny twig of a kid who, despite being fifteen, had barely grown. Puberty had decided he would be a late bloomer, waiting until almost seventeen to give him the last few inches of height. The bulk that Clay playfully turned his nose up at was because Tyler had spent the better part of the past few years in the gym. Along with a physical training regimen created by Elliot, a former Marine, Tyler was quite proud of his body.

“You know Elliot’s going to tell you to get a haircut,” Clay informed him as he reached the end of the hall.

Tyler sighed, nodding as he followed Clay to the back of the house. Clay could get away with doing whatever he wanted to his hair, but that was probably because he had Elliot wrapped around his finger. Tyler, however, couldn’t escape comments from the former Marine if he allowed his hair to grow longer than an inch. And considering it had grown long enough to fall into his eyes, he was sure Elliot would have plenty to say about that.

As if on cue, he had to shove a dark blond lock out of his eyes. “Yeah, but if I didn’t give him something to focus on, he might start asking about school.”

Clay stopped at the fridge, swinging