Nothing Was The Same

Once you are dressed and presentable, you step out of the door to your room and into the hallway. You've been Drake's bodyguard for about a year, when he offered for you to come and live in his mansions, instead of staying at nearby hotels.

At first, you thought it'd be too strange to live in the house of the guy you were working for, but seeing how there's actually a couple guys traveling and living with him, and a quick scroll through the price listings for apartments and houses in these gated communities, quickly changed your mind.

Usually the Drizzler, as you and some of his other guys like to call him jokingly, lives in his mansion in Toronto called "The Embassy". A nice place which you've also been to, but you're still glad whenever he decides to spend time in LA. Nothing against Toronto, but you just can't get used to the climate.

The past three weeks though, you haven't been living in any mansions. Instead, you visited your family in Atlanta, while Drake was off on vacation in Brazil, with some security temps the label had hired.

Drake and you enter the lobby of the lavish mansion at pretty much the same time. He drops his bags and spreads out his arms as he sees you, grinning ear to ear. Behind him the temps, and some guys from the entourage that went with him, brought in more bags. "Bring it in crodie!" He beams at you.

You cringe for a second, but you know that's just the type of guy he is. Growing up a dark-skinned black man in a hyper-masculine environment made you careful about this kind of behavior. Moving to the tourist side of LA was a culture shock, but nothing that could have prepared you for Drake's habits in male relationships. You sigh in resignation and bring it in.

"That's it, there's my big bear!" As usual, Drake hugs you too tight, too long, and with his full body. But you see something behind him, something that distracts you from the uncomfortably close hug. Why the fuck is his ass sticking out like that?