He just had to trust Sally would take care of the husband problem.
And he could trust Sally. Trust was the very foundation of a relationship, and so he had to be more than just faithful – he had to have faith in his partner.
When Andrew left work that day, he felt better about everything. He was confident that as long as he waited for a little while, everything would work out.
Really, it was actually very selfish of him to expect Mr. Dawson to leave. It WAS Mr. Dawson’s house, after all. A man should be able to return - from the military! - to the house he owned and not be kicked out right away. He would need time to find a new place, get his life together. Andrew honestly kind of felt bad for the guy. The guest room sucked. It was small and had originally been the office before Sally made the actual guest room into her office/expanded closet. If Andrew knew Mr. Dawson was coming home, he would have fixed the little guest room up, at least moved the older man’s clothes in there and some of his things so it would feel more like his own.
But Andrew hadn’t known, so here they were.
He’d try from now on to make things more comfortable for Mr. Dawson, try not to shove his relationship with Sally into her husband’s face. For all Andrew knew, Mr. Dawson could still be in love with Sally and here Andrew was, sleeping with her in Mr. Dawson’s bed!
That...that would be very bad.
By the time he got to class, he was anxious again.
What if Mr. Dawson was still in love in love with Sally? What if he’d been in love with her this entire time, and hadn’t thought they were as distant as Sally did. That wouldn’t change anything, of course, Sally was still with Andrew and in love with Andrew, but you know, Andrew would feel a hundred times shittier about all of this. Maybe even a thousand times shittier.
With what Sally had told Andrew about Mr. Dawson, he put together that the guy had been in the military since he was eighteen and had been devoted to it. He’s always had difficulty with sex, and Andrew got that, man. Sex could be really hard - which is why Andrew was so appreciative of Sally. If not for her, he wouldn’t have any idea what he was supposed to do. Frankly, he always got so caught up in the moment whenever they had sex, so blown away that someone as beautiful and caring and mature as Sally would have any interest in him, let alone let him fuck her, that he kind of lost himself.
Maybe Sally - not that he was doubting her - hadn’t….been as patient with Mr. Dawson as she had with Andrew. They had been teenagers the last time Sally and Mr. Dawson had been together, it sounded like, and though they talked on the phone frequently - especially in the past two months, almost every single day, several times a day - it still wasn’t sex.
Maybe…Mr. Dawson had thought this would be their second chance? Maybe he had thought he would return and patch things up with the beautiful young woman he had married, the one that he had taken vows to honor and cherish?
And then he came home to Andrew, wearing his clothing and fucking his wife in his bed.
That had left a very heavy, very sour feeling in Andrew’s stomach that lasted throughout his two classes that day and all throughout his time in the library. He felt absolutely awful. When he met Sally at their usual pickup spot just outside the school around seven, he was twice as nervous as he was this morning.
“What if he’s still in love with you?” Andrew blurted out in greeting as he slid into the passenger side seat of her car.
Sally laughed at this. “Oh sweetie - Corey was never in love with me. We were just each other’s excuses to get the hell out of our hometown.” She said easily. “I’ve known Corey my entire life, and I don’t think he’s ever loved anyone. He’s always been focused on getting money, getting out of dodge, getting a life of his own that wasn’t being dictated by someone else. There’s never been room for anyone else in his tiny, closed off heart.” She said with a little laugh.
“Yeah, but you’ve been in his life for his entire life, right? A-and-” Andrew licked his lips as he hastily pulled his belt over his chest to buckle himself in, then holding onto the belt to anxious wring it in between his hands. “-and you two have been married for so long, and you guys are obviously close, since you still talked to each other on the phone pretty much every day.” He said desperately.
Sally looked confused before her expression blanked. “Well - yes,” She said carefully. “But those calls were never romantic. They were...pure business.” She said after a minute, her eyes focused on the road as she navigated away from the college. “And I’ve never loved him either. He’s always had an amazing body, and that’s what attracted me to him in the first place. His personality was always...less than stellar, but I was willing to overlook it because he was so good looking and we looked so good together….but like I said...he could never keep it up.” she said, finishing on a sour note, her laughter this time rueful.
“But...what if he expects you two to get back together?” Andrew pressed.
Sally laughed quietly. “Trust me. Corey is angry he got let go from his job, he doesn’t give a fuck about me. He never has. He’s never cared about anyone, ever. He’s just been about his survival and his survival alone.”
Andrew frowned at this, but nodded.
If anyone knew Mr. Dawson, he figured it would be Sally.
When they got home, Andrew found Mr. Dawson was still in the same seat with the same dark look in the same outfit, seemingly having stayed exactly where he was, as he was, for the entire day. Andrew greeted him with an awkward little wave of his hand before he scampered up the stairs to drop off his and Sally’s things before he went back down to help Sally make dinner.
Tonight they were having potato soup, Sally’s specialty. It was a highly involved dish that he had made with Sally several times, as well as the three far simpler side dishes. It took about an hour to make it all, and when they were done, Andrew made sure that Mr. Dawson had a bowl, which he set down at the head of the table, opposite Sally, while Andrew sat between them.
When Mr. Dawson came to sit at the table with them after the table was set, the atmosphere was as tense as the night before.
Sally’s usual good mood soured as soon as she lifted her gaze and set eyes on her husband, who glowered at her before he glared at Andrew, alternating between the two. After several long minutes of this, Sally cleared her throat and Andrew had hoped it would be the start of a pleasant conversation.
“So why did they force you out again?” Sally asked lightly.
Andrew lifted his gaze to give her a polite but confused smile, only to see her gaze fixed on her husband. He chewed on a cooked potato piece before he turned his gaze to give Mr. Dawson a polite and curious smile.
Mr. Dawson didn’t answer for a minute, instead aggressively stirring his soap before he took a spoonful into his mouth, his face tightened. “I did exactly as I was told to do.” He said after swallowing before he added “I just didn’t stop when they told me to stop. Which made me a liability.” He said shortly in a dark tone.
Sally’s eyes narrowed at him and Andrew looked between them silently. “And just what does that mean, Mr. Sniper?”
“It means I kept killin’ when they told me to stop killin’.” Mr. Dawson replied acidically, his eyes darting over to give Andrew a pointed look.
Andrew felt himself begin to break out in a cold sweat and took a long drink of his water, taking his time as he nervously looked between them over his glass. When he finished with a quiet gasp, he saw Mr. Dawson scowling at him. Not knowing what else to do, Andrew took another long drink of his water.
“Stop trying to intimidate him,” Sally snapped, “He’s not going anywhere.”
“I wasn’t doing shit.” Mr. Dawson said stubbornly, though he kept his glare on Andrew.
Sally loudly set her silverware down, licking her lips. “Andrew,” she said, staring at her husband. “Go upstairs and do your homework. I’ll take care of the dishes.” She said in a sharp tone.
Andrew didn’t need to be told twice. He left his plate behind to hurry out of the kitchen as Mr. Dawson asked if Sally was Andrew’s mother now. That started a whole different level of screaming that Andrew could hear all the way through the house, no matter where he tried to go to study.
He settled back in the master suite, sitting at the small desk there to pour over today’s notes. As he was double checking the schedule attached to the syllabus to this semester’s history course he was taking, he heard someone stomping up the steps and he tensed, turning slightly to look toward the closed bedroom door. He heard someone storm past his door before another door was slammed shut.
A minute later, Sally slid into the room looking miffed.
When she saw him, her expression smoothed and she smiled coyly at him, Andrew returning it with a shy smile of his own.
“Is everything...okay?” He asked hesitantly.
She reached up to take the hair stick out of her hair, her long, golden bronze tresses falling down then too flutter at her shoulders and drape over one side of her face seductively. She made a noise that was part hum, part moan as she reached up and fluffed her hair, her lids lowering to fix Andrew with a heavy look that went straight to his dick. “Everything is fine, now that I’m up here with you.” she purred, pursing her pink painted lips at him before she sauntered over to where he was, turning his desk chair to face her. She climbed onto his lap and ran the back of her fingers down his face as her gaze found his lips. She giggled as she gingerly touched his lips with one of her cool fingertips. “You’ve been biting your lips again, Andy.”
“I do that when I’m thinking.” He said softly as he looked to her lips and their playful little smile.
“I know you do.” she breathed back. “My little thinker.” she cooed before she dragged her fingertip down from his lips to tilt his chin up. She leaned down and kissed his lips then, her own teasing his as he responded eagerly. Sally liked to tease. She liked to make Andrew work for it until he was so frustrated he could cry. And then she’d make him give it to her first, and then she’d return the favor. It was their little game, and it always got Andrew riled up, even if he probably would have preferred that they just got straight down to it. He didn’t like teasing, usually. In fact, he kind of hated it, but as Sally seemed ot like it so much, he had grown to accept it.
As their teasing kissed turned to hot, heavy ones, Sally moaned into his mouth as she began to unbutton the white button-down shirt of his work uniform, Andrew heard Mr. Dawson thudding around in the guest room and Andrew got anxious. He pulled back to turn his head a little to look at the wall separating them from the guest room before Sally turned his head back to face her so she could try and tease him into paying her more attention.
“He’s right there.” Andrew whispered anxiously into Sally’s mouth, “Like - right there!” He wheezed, throwing an arm out to the wall between them and the man with all the guns.
Sally paused, staring at him for a beat. Once she figured out that Andrew wasn’t in the mood she heaved a frustrated sigh and climbed off his lap, pulling her skirt down from where it had hiked up to sit nearly at her hips. “There’s just going to have to be some compromises here,” She said tensely, “Get used to it.”
Andrew frowned. “W-wait, who are you talking about?”
“You.” She said shortly. “And him. And me, I guess.” she said, mumbling the last part out. “I’m not going to have Corey barge in here and fuck up my sex life. I have a lifestyle that I have become accustomed to, and nothing’s going to change that.” she growled to herself before she marched to the door, pausing there to turn and look at Andrew. “Do your work. I’m going to tidy up the kitchen, and then tomorrow, we’ll reset and have a better day than today.”
“Right.” Andrew said with a firm nod and a determined look. “Sounds like a plan.”
She nodded at him in return before she slid out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Andrew stared at the closed door before he slowly swiveled his chair to face the desk again, his gaze flickering to the wall separating him from Mr. Dawson. He slowly looked back to his work, picked up his pen, and got back to his notes.
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