The Trouble with Live-In Lovers

You know how, sometimes, you get so excited about something you ignore the fact that it could all go terribly wrong? Moving in with Drew was like that. We loved eachother, we thought we knew eachother and we wanted to live together. But, really, there’s a whole different level to knowing someone when you live with them.

Our first disagreement was about the furniture. In my wildest dreams, I never thought we would argue about something as simple as what we plant our asses on.

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I’ve already moved most of my things into Drew’s apartment. In a week or so, I will be required to remove all my furniture from my old studio. As we lie in bed one night, I bring the subject of my furniture up to Drew. Immediately, I feel his body tense. He pulls away to look me in the eye.

“Baby, you can’t move your furniture here.”

“Why not?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, curious to hear his reasoning.

“It doesn’t really go with the décor, does it?” He says sweeping his arm across said décor. Drew’s apartment is sleek and modern. Most of the things at my place are older, retro. So, admittedly, he does have a point. But, we could easily mesh the two styles. Drew’s just averse to having his designer apartment marred in any way.

“Well, maybe we should redecorate,” I suggest, knowing he’ll attempt to convince me otherwise. He hums softly in response, neither approving nor disapproving. He places a few soft kisses along my collarbone and I quickly see where this is going.

He moves a bit to straddle my waist and leans down to kiss me. “Baby,” he whispers in my ear and begins slowly grinding his hips against mine, “I like the apartment the way it is.”

“Drew, it won’t work,” I respond and place my hands on his hips, effectively stilling them.

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Okay, so that argument really wasn’t a big deal. The mini-crisis was eventually solved with very little bloodshed. We both kept a few of our own pieces and bought some additional things that meshed both of our styles.

The next disagreement we had was a bit more predictable. Drew is a fucking neat freak. And, I guess I’m a little organizationally challenged. So, it’s not surprising that he was sort of upset when he came home one day to find the bed unmade, dishes in the sink, and me eating Doritos on his snow white sofa.

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Drew walks into the apartment and heads toward the bedroom, when the kitchen sink and countertop, rather the dirty dishes in the sink and on the countertop, elicit his attention. From my seat on the couch, I can see his eyes widen. And, I know he wants to say something but he just walks quietly to the bedroom. A few minutes later, which I’m sure he used to examine the mess in the bedroom, he walks into the living room again, looking positively appalled that there is any kind of disorder in his usually pristine apartment. He walks to the couch and takes a seat next to me.

“Baby?” I know he doesn’t want to start an argument. Lately, he’s been a little more hesitant to voice any opinions that might cause conflict. I think he’s afraid that if we have a fight, I’ll say I didn’t want to live with him in the first place, pack my shit, and leave. I can see some logic to his reasoning. I mean, he did have to convince me to move in with him. But, the whole idea of me leaving Drew is crazy for so many different reasons. If anyone were to end our relationship or leave, it would be Drew. I’m probably more inclined to cheat but I’m definitely the last person to leave. I’m not a confrontational person; I just don’t have it in me to tell someone face-to-face that I don’t want to be with them anymore.

“Baby, what did you do all day?”

“Well, you know it was my day off. So, I pretty much just hung around here.” I see him mentally choosing his next words. After a few moments, he finally just says it.

“Baby, the place looks like a sty.” I look around the apartment and even I have to admit it’s a mess.

“I don’t think it’s that bad. I mean I could have made the bed and washed the dishes, but I didn’t feel like it.”

“Just because you don’t feel like doing something, doesn’t mean you don’t.”

“Sure it does.”

“No it doesn’t. I’m not your wife, baby. I won’t spend my days cleaning up after you. Do you really want me to do all the work around here?” Okay, that brings about the guilty feelings.

“You’re right, Drew.” I say leaning in to kiss the frown off his face. “Maybe we should get a cleaning lady.” He rolls his eyes.

“Maybe you should pick up after yourself.”

“I guess I can do it, for you Drew.” I say with my best martyr sigh.

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Again, that argument really wasn’t a big deal. It was my fault. What can I say, I’m a lazy sonofabitch? The next argument we had was the worst, but it was necessary. The discussion that resulted from it needed to be had. To understand how this third argument started, you should know something.

I don’t have a lot of friends. Actually, I don’t have any. Really, there’s just Drew and my brother, Marco.
If the number of phone calls and knocks on the door we receive is any indication, Drew has thousands of friends.

I didn’t have a problem with them, really. But, his friends had a bad habit of just stopping by the apartment with no phone call. So, we’d be in the middle of doing something, you know, something important and they’d just show up. And, Drew being the perfect host wouldn’t tell them to fuck off. I ignored it for awhile. But, when that dumbass Tucker stopped by…well, a person can only be so patient.

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I was sitting at my desk, which is in the main room, working, when I hear a knock at the door. Not an unusual occurrence. So, I stop what I’m doing to answer the door, because it would be rude to just ignore it like I do sometimes, you know? I’ve met Tucker once before, and I swear the guy thinks he’s a cowboy, even dresses like one. But, with a name like Tucker what can you expect?

“Drew isn’t here.” I say, because he sure-as-fuck isn’t here to see me, and begin closing the door.

“That’s alright. I’ll wait for’em.” He says with a fake Texan accent and saunters into the apartment. Did I invite this nitwit in? No. I leave him to his own devices and go back to my desk to work. And, about twenty minutes later Drew returns from wherever he went to carrying a bag of what looks to be groceries. I don’t bother getting out of my chair and keep working, when I hear Tucker.

“Let me help you with that, suga.” Who the fuck does this guy think he is? First of all, no one needs help with one bag. And, second of all, suga? Come on.

“Tucker!” Drew actually sounds excited to see him. He starts preparing dinner, and all I hear is suga this and suga that. Tucker’s helping him with every little thing. When Drew excuses himself to the bathroom, I wait for Tucker to offer a hand to hold his dick. This guy really is something else, and of course he stays for dinner. And top the evening off, the cowboy pretends I’m not even there. You’d think he and Drew were the couple. When he finally leaves, Drew and I wash dishes at the sink.

“That was nice of Tucker to stop by, wasn’t it baby?”

“Yeah fucking right.” I dry off my hands and head toward the bedroom. He grabs my arm and turns me around.

“What is your fucking problem? You’ve been in a mood all night. And, you were a complete ass to Tucker.”

“My fucking problem is that the only reason that fucking cowboy was here was because he wanted a piece of your ass, Drew!” I yell.

“Fuck you, Jesus.” He snaps before storming into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him. Fuck. I wait a few minutes before approaching the closed door. I knock softly and move to turn the knob, only to discover it’s locked. I listen and don’t hear anything so I knock a little harder.

“Drew, let me in.” I order amicably.

“Fuck you, Jesus.”

“Drew, open the fucking door.” I order not so amicably.

“No.”

“Fuck this.” I mutter under my breath and head for the front door. I seriously do not want to deal with this right now. Before I make it to the front door, I hear the bedroom door open and turn around to see Drew standing the doorway. He looks kind of panicked.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers and he looks so scared, exactly how I would look if I thought Drew was leaving me. Fuck, he thinks I’m leaving him. I walk over to him, giving him a small smile to assure him everything’s okay. I take his hand and we walk into the bedroom to sit down on the bed.

“Drew, you know I wouldn’t leave leave just because we had an argument, right? I was just going to take a walk to clear my head.”

“I know you wouldn’t leave. It’s just that sometimes…” he trails off.

“Sometimes, what?”

“Sometimes, I wonder…I mean, I know you love me. I do.” He looks up to give a small smile but his eyes slowly leave mine. “It’s just, I wonder if you really want to be in this relationship. Before I met you and even after I met you, you were happy doing the bachelor thing. And, this whole relationship and moving in together was my idea. And, you really didn’t want to move in with me.” He’s rambling now.

“Drew,” I repeat his name again to get his attention, “Drew, stop.” I take hold of his hand and make eye contact to insure that he’s listening. “I want to be here. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I love you. I want to be with you. And, that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

“You’ll let me know when, right?”

“When, what?” I ask confused.

“You’ll let me know when it changes.”

“It’s not going to change.”

“Well if it does, promise me you will.” And, I know he won’t let it go until I promise.

“I promise.” I lean in to kiss him and as I pull away he has a small smile on his face.

“I’m still pissed at you. You were a real ass. Tucker’s a sweet guy and he’s my friend.” I ignore the last part of that statement to focus on the first.

“I know and I am sorry. It just gets tiring when your friends stop by everyday without calling ahead first.”

“They’re just being friendly.”

“They’re your friends. And, it may have been fine when you lived alone. But, we’re a couple now, right?” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and nods. “And, being a couple, we need our privacy. I want to feel comfortable here, Drew. And, this is part of that.”

“I guess I can tell them to call before they visit,” he manages with an exaggerated put upon expression. I roll my eyes at his attitude before responding.

“That’s all I ask.” I move a little closer to whisper in his ear. “Now that Tucker’s gone, what will we do with this big, empty apartment?” I ask, my tone clearly indicating what we’ll be doing.

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So, I guess moving in with Drew didn’t go terribly wrong. We had a few arguments but we’re still getting used to eachother and I’m still getting used to this whole relationship thing. So far things haven’t been too bad. I mean, there are some benefits to having a live in lover. And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking advantage of one of those benefits right now.