Grayson: An MM Friends To Lovers Romance

“I sell wedding dresses for a living, if anyone knows the stress of weddings, it is me.”

“That’s an interesting career choice. I would have pegged you for a stock broker or an accountant, or something.”

It was my turn to stock the dresser as Henry waltzed over to the kitchen.

“How judgmental of you,” I taunted.

Henry turned to appraise me with his gorgeous brown eyes, looking me up and down like I truly was some prize pony, and my cock twitched at the sight.

Never in my life had I wanted someone to like me, not the way I wanted Henry to like me. His gaze, his approval, his praise was like a drug I didn’t know I needed.

“Me? Judge you?”

“You did call me a yuppie,” I said, brushing some stray strands of hair out of my eyes as I finished up with the dresser.

“I didn’t…” Henry sighed, and we both stood there, a mere distance apart, staring at one another like it was some sort of standoff.

“I’m just… not good at… this.” Henry huffed, taking a seat in one of the rustic, cream-colored chairs adorned with a shellacked wooden frame. He set his face in his hands as he let out an exasperated sigh of his own.

“Good at what, Henry?” I asked, truly piqued.

“I’ve never been good at… fitting in with people. Mia… she’s always been a chameleon. She can adapt to wherever she is, whoever she is with. And this life… this… traveling and brunch and lake houses and spa retreats… she’s a classic. She fits in. But I don’t, I—” He sunk into his chair, and I watched his shoulders fall.

“I don’t have anything in common with anyone here. With you,” he said sadly. “I’m so out of my element.”

Oh, that’s what this is about.

I pulled up a chair opposite him, crossing my legs. “Henry, look at me, I want to tell you something,” I commanded, and to my surprise, he did just as I asked, without refusal.

So he can be a good boy when he wants to be.

Noted.

“What?” he asked, his lips parted just the slightest. Between his perfect pout, his innocent chocolate eyes, and the look on his face, I knew I was a goner.

Because I’d never felt so compelled to let my secrets out, the way I did when I was with Henry.

“I don’t fit in either,” I whispered.

Henry shook his head. “You’re just saying that. You—”

“I’m the literal black sheep in my family, Henry. They expected me to be the one to run off into the sunset and have three point five children with a house in the Hamptons and an admirable stock portfolio. But what they got was a son who prefers cock, with a praise kink, who’s done nothing but consistently disappoint them, who works a high stress job just so I don’t have to be home and be hounded by my parents about what a damn failure I am.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed and he rubbed his knees. “Grayson, I—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine with my choices in life. I’ve accepted that those things aren’t for me,” I said, feeling strangely vulnerable with the onslaught of baggage I’d just unloaded on Henry.

It was like I had word vomit or something.

Except, I did want some of those things.

I wanted Prince Charming to come in and sweep me off my feet, but I’d accepted that probably wasn’t going to happen.

“All I’m saying is, maybe we both shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

Henry nodded, pursing his lips. “Right. Fresh start.”

“Fresh start,” I said, just as a knock on the door pulled my attention away.