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A Marriage of Friends
A Marriage of Friends
A Marriage of Friends
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A Marriage of Friends

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Allen would do anything for his best friend Neal—including marrying him so he can get health insurance. But things are complicated. He has feelings for Neal that he's tried to repress...and Neal has enough on his plate, battling chronic depression and anxiety. He doesn't need friendship to become something more...does he?

Heat level: sweet

17,600 words

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 31, 2018
ISBN9781386922728
A Marriage of Friends

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    Book preview

    A Marriage of Friends - Hollis Shiloh

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    Note: This story was originally a Patreon reward.

    About the story:

    Allen would do anything for his best friend Neal—including marrying him so he can get health insurance.  But things are complicated.  He has feelings for Neal that he's tried to repress...and Neal has enough on his plate, battling chronic depression and anxiety.  He doesn't need friendship to become something more...does he?

    Heat level: sweet

    17,600 words

    A Marriage of Friends

    by Hollis Shiloh

    Allen fumbled for the phone.  It was ringing—far too early.  But it was also Neal.  Hello? he answered groggily, trying to figure out what time it was.  His eyes were too blurry to make out numbers yet; he was lucky he'd found the answer button.

    Al? asked the voice on the other end of the line. 

    Yes.  What is it?

    N-Nothing.  Just wondering if I could come and stay with you for a bit.  Just a bit, I promise.

    Anytime.  You know that.

    There was a moment of startled silence on the other end, and he cursed himself for answering too quickly.  He had always had the feeling that Neal didn't want to know Allen would do anything for him.  Or maybe he wanted to pretend not to know, so he wouldn't feel like he was imposing.

    But he wasn't imposing.  If anything, Allen wished he'd stay longer than he was going to.  However long it would be, it wouldn't be long enough.

    Thank you, Neal said in a muffled voice, as if he was feeling suffocated and choked up. 

    Allen really hoped he wasn't.  Um.  He tried desperately to cover the awkwardness.  You know I'm living in the country right now, right?

    Yes.  You're flipping that house, aren't you?

    Allen grimaced into the dark and clamped his teeth shut so he wouldn't argue about semantics.  He really didn't like that term.  He wasn't a house flipper.  He had a day job; fixing up this huge and ratty house in the countryside was just his hobby.  But he didn't want to argue. 

    The countryside, he repeated.  Soon as you want.  He shared the address to be sure Neal had it.

    I thought—tomorrow?  It was a question, and a nervous one at that.

    Allen gulped.  Tomorrow was awfully soon.  He was afraid to ask what was going on with Neal's housing situation at the moment—and he didn't have a place for Neal to sleep.  One day was terribly short notice.  That's fine, he said as evenly as he could manage.

    It's not, is it?  It's too soon.  I'm being a leech.  I should just go to a hotel and—

    No.  Come on down.  We'll make it work.  Uh, maybe bring a sleeping bag.  Just for the first few nights, you know?  I don't have two bedrooms.  He didn't even have one bedroom, not yet, but he didn't feel like sharing that over the line.

    I can help fixing the place up, Neal said, as if grabbing a lifeline.

    Only if you want to, Allen assured him, remembering how miserable Neal had been when they were young and had worked with his father over the summer.  He'd hated it.  Of course back then he'd been smaller and a lot less strong.  He'd also been extremely self-conscious about his clumsiness and literally everything about his body.

    This was before his depression had really kicked in.  But even at that age, he'd struggled emotionally.  Being bullied hadn't helped. 

    Allen had been a loyal friend and had tried to shield him, but he hadn't exactly been Mr. Popular himself.  Somehow, they'd both gotten through high school, but Neal's life hadn't gotten any easier. 

    He'd struggled on and off with depression through college—where he'd had to take a couple of breaks—and into employment, where he'd had some empty patches in his job history due to mental health absences from the workplace. 

    There had been plenty of times when he'd struggled just to get through the work day, and he hadn't exactly been in the position to job search continually.  So he was often underemployed for his skill set, and Allen felt for him.  They'd gone into such different fields that he hadn't been able to help him along.  He couldn't pass on job opportunities that weren't there.

    He'd been as encouraging as he could, as supportive—but most of the time, all he could provide was the backup couch Neal could crash on when things fell apart, as they so often seemed to do.  When Neal would even come to him, which sometimes he wouldn't.  Not wanting to be a burden or some such horseshit. 

    He'd been doing better lately, though.  It was so discouraging to hear him sounding so insecure and hopeless again.  Allen wished he could do more.  He'd always wished he could do more.  Offering a shoulder to lean on, or a couch to surf on, seemed to be all he was good for when it came to Neal. 

    Old feelings just had to be brushed aside or fought down.  Neal mattered, not Allen's stupid feelings.

    Come as soon as you can.  We'll make it work, he vowed.  He could set aside everything else to be there for Neal, whenever and whatever was needed.  He'd made himself a promise long ago that he'd never be the one

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