Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (16 page)

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Riley muttered. “I guess dudes are just as fucking chatty as women. Gay dudes, anyway.” Then louder, “Fine. I’m gonna take a shower. Meet me on the couch in ten.”

“O-okay,” Kelly answered, waiting for Riley to close the bathroom door before getting up and leaving the room, grabbing his jeans and boots on the way. He needed to shower, too. Then dress and definitely grab a beer. And he needed to talk to Riley. “Maybe something stronger than a beer,” he admitted as he started the water in the second bathroom and stepped under the spray. “I somehow doubt just a beer will be enough.”

Of course, whatever he drank, it wasn’t going to make it any easier to tell Riley that what had happened that night was a mistake that could never be repeated. No matter how much Kelly might want it to be.

And thank God I’m moving into the downstairs apartment tomorrow. Temptation is way easier to resist when it’s not right in my face, twenty-four seven. And Riley is one hell of a temptation.

He wasn’t looking forward to explaining that to Riley, though. Not even a little.

Chapter Eleven

Fucking Kelly, being all... whatever the fuck Kelly was being. Not noble. Riley was sure about that much, at least. Shit, the guy wanted to
talk
. And what had all that been about some relationship? Though to be fair, Riley had literally heard the air-quotes around the word when Kelly’d been talking. Or felt them. Something. However it came to be, Riley had known they were there. Maybe some quasi-sarcastic tone.

The point was, Kelly had apparently gotten burned by some fucker, and whatever the particulars were about that, Kelly was obviously assuming Riley was just as fucking emotionally retarded as the shithead who’d fucked Kelly over.

The more Riley thought about it, the less relaxing the hot water pouring over his skin became. He still soaped himself carefully, ignoring the fact that he was washing away every bit of evidence that he and Kelly had engaged in... fuck if he knew what to call it. It hadn’t been sex, but it had for damned sure been more than something totally fucking meaningless. It kind of pissed Riley off that Kelly didn’t agree.
Or thinks I’m just fucking curious or some such shit. Fucking asshole. Like I run around begging gay dudes to fucking fuck me every day. Shit. Maybe whoever the fuck screwed him over really fucked him up.

Or maybe Kelly was in love with the piece of shit. Maybe that was why Riley hadn’t seen Kelly go out much. Maybe the dude was mourning the death of whatever the fuck had been going on before Kelly’s move to Hartford.

Except there’d been that tone. The one that had implied the so-called relationship Kelly had left behind was exactly that. So-called, rather than real.

“Fuck if this gay shit isn’t just as confusing as all the guy-girl shit I’ve been through in my life,” Riley mumbled as he shut off the water and stepped from the shower to dry off with a few rough swipes of his towel. “It might be even worse. At least with chicks I know what to say.”

Except he didn’t. If Riley was being honest, he didn’t know what to say to women most of the time, which possibly explained why he’d never dated anyone for long. He’d never been good with the flowery talk and stuff.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that he was stalling, taking longer than necessary to decide what clothes to wear for what was sure to be a pain-in-the-ass talk with Kelly. He also couldn’t deny that he was lingering in the bedroom because he could still smell himself on the air. Himself and Kelly, the combination of earthy musks teasing Riley’s libido like nothing he’d known before. “This is so fucking weird.”

It was even stranger a few minutes later, when Riley finally walked down the short hall to the living room and saw Kelly sitting on the arm of the couch, holding two of Riley’s margarita glasses. The glasses seemed to be half full, though Riley could tell by the color that none of Ballard’s margarita mix was in either of them.

“Dude.” Okay, maybe not the best opening because Kelly jumped, nearly dropping one of the glasses. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“No. No, it’s fine.” Kelly’s eyes were wide, cheeks pink as he looked at Riley. Looked and stopped, staring. “Um, it’s okay. I guess I. Wow. Okay. I kind of thought you’d be more... dressed when you came out here?”

Riley frowned slightly and looked down at himself. “Dude. I’m wearing clothes.”

Kelly laughed, but it sounded surprised, somehow. “You’re wearing boxers.” And Kelly was wearing sweat pants and a long-sleeved, baggy T-shirt, for fuck’s sake. Jesus fucking Christ. As if that would make Riley forget what had happened just a short while earlier. Or let Kelly forget.

It was the way Kelly’s tongue crept out to moisten those soft lips that had Riley smirking just a bit as he moved closer to the couch. No reminding required, apparently. Fucking cool. “They count. They’re cotton. Cotton is fabric. Fabric makes clothes.” Maybe his logic was questionable, but Riley didn’t care. “Besides. You’ve already seen me totally fucking naked, man. Shit, you covered me in jizz. I figure boxers are close enough. It’s not like you mentioned a dress code for this fucking ‘talk’ you insist on having.”

Kelly let loose one sharp sound that could have been another laugh or just some kind of fucking shock. “I’m pretty sure any... jizz... wasn’t entirely mine,” Kelly said before blushing even darker. Fuck, it was hot to see that ivory skin go so deeply pink. It reminded Riley of the color Kelly’s cock had been, and that just had his own cock responding.

Riley shrugged a little, arching his back slightly as he stood there, and when Kelly’s eyes dipped, then darted away from the slow tenting of Riley’s boxers, Riley agreed. “Dude. It totally wasn’t all you. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my fucking life! Unless we’re counting wet dreams and shit, because I might have had a few lately that nearly blew the top of my fucking head off. So, is one of those drinks for me, or are you desperate to get sloppy-drunk?” Because now that he was out of the bedroom and the scent of him and Kelly had faded, Riley could smell the tequila. “Fair warning, man. You get drunk, I’m definitely gonna get you to fuck me. I know you wanted to before. I just don’t know why the fuck you didn’t.”

Yeah, he sounded a little grumbly, but Riley had reason. At least he thought he did. He didn’t have a chance to figure out what that reason was, though, because Kelly blinked and stood up from his perch on the couch arm.

“Well, I don’t know why the hell you wanted me to!” Yeah, Kelly looked kind of confused and sort of pissed off. It was fucking hot. “You’re straight! You’ve said so at least a dozen times, and then all of a sudden you’re half naked and you want me to fu...
do you
! And I like you, Riley! I really do, okay? You’re the first friend I made here, and sure, we had that messed-up misunderstanding about who was doing what with your uncle, but I don’t want to screw this up! Us being friends, I mean, even if you
do
keep lying to me, because you’re obviously not at work right now! But that’s beside the point. The point is, I’m pretty sure that me satisfying whatever bi-curious urges you’re having would end up killing this friendship, and I don’t want that, so excuse me for
not
having full-on sex with you tonight, but it would have been a really bad idea!”

As much as Riley wanted to just get in the guy’s face and shut him up, he didn’t. Instead, he took two long steps, stopping when he stood directly in front of Kelly. Then Riley grabbed one of the glasses Kelly held and tossed back half of the tequila it held with the ease of long practice. “Drink your fucking drink,” he said, congratulating himself on not snarling or sounding impatient with Kelly’s fucking ridiculous concerns. They clearly weren’t ridiculous to Kelly, and maybe that was all that mattered.

Riley waited until Kelly’s wide-eyed gaze turned incredulous, and he did recognize the expression, though he didn’t know how. Then he waited until Kelly had taken a long swallow of liquor, too.

“Okay,” Riley said, speaking slowly and softly in an effort not to freak Kelly out any more than the poor guy already was. “You’re right. You’re totally fucking right. I lied to you about working tonight. I went to see my uncle. I just didn’t figure there was any way to say ‘Hey, Kelly, I’m gonna ask Uncle Peter for some advice about getting involved with a dude,’ without ending up having a whole conversation just like this one! And I really have told you I’m straight; more than once. Because I mostly am, man.” He held up a hand when Kelly looked like he was about to interrupt. “Dude! Let me finish!”

Riley waited for Kelly’s nod, then went on. “None of this is about me being straight. None of it.” He made a back-and-forth motion with his free hand, gesturing to himself first, then to Kelly. “This... fuck if I know what it is or why, but dude. I’ve been totally fucking hot for you since you got here. It just took me a while to get it. And it’s not about being confused or curious or whatever the fuck else you’ve gotten into your head. I like you, too. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my fucking life. If I was just curious or whatever, you’ve met my fucking friends. Do you really think they wouldn’t help me out with that? Shit, the twinkies-three would probably throw a fucking party!”

Kelly laughed a little at that, and Riley’s lip twitched into a small smile. “It’s not guys in general I’m curious about, Kelly,” he said then, even softer, more gently. “It’s you. And that’s why I want you to fuck me, man. Because I can’t think this whole fucking obsessive attraction is gonna go away. I dream about you, Kelly. Shit, I jerk off thinking about you. And I wanted to kill that fucker Leonard when I thought you guys were doing the nasty.”

Riley’s little smile became a full-fledged grin when Kelly’s eyes rolled. “Did you really just say ‘doing the nasty’? Because that’s so... God, I think I was still in the womb when that was a saying,” Kelly said before taking another sip of tequila. “And it’s not like that. Leonard’s a friend, or I think he’s going to be, and I already told you he works for me, so even if he were my type, I’d never go there. Too... messy.”

Riley heard the silent
just like getting involved with a friend
, even though Kelly didn’t say it. He actually agreed, in a way, or he would have if the friend of Kelly’s hadn’t been him. As it was, though, Riley couldn’t let that fucking supposition stand. Not even a little bit. “Sometimes messy is good. Shit, sometimes messy is fucking awesome, man. We’re still friends, right? Whatever happens, that’s not gonna change. So maybe
messy
is okay.” God, Riley hoped so, because there was no fucking way that he could let go. Not after feeling Kelly on him, spurting jizz all over his skin, damn it.

Kelly smiled and finished his drink, though the smile looked a little off to Riley. Fuck. Then Kelly shrugged. “I’m glad you think so, because ‘messy’ doesn’t even begin to describe what my apartment is going to look like tomorrow when all the furniture and electronics and things get here. Maybe I should have spaced it out more, but Harry was so sure the renovations on the school would be done on time. So are you willing to help me get everything organized tomorrow? Since we’re still friends and all that?”

It took every ounce of restraint in Riley’s body to hold his response to a short, sharp nod and a grunted “Yeah.” He managed it, but fuck if it didn’t hurt. Part of the pain was the way Kelly looked at him. Like Kelly had made up his mind, and not only was there nothing Riley could do about it, but Kelly wouldn’t even listen if he tried.

The whole situation was fucked up, damn it. And Riley didn’t have a single fucking clue about how to make it less shitty. Then Kelly offered up a smile that looked faker than a movie star’s tan and left the living room.

Riley was still trying to figure out how everything had gone so fucking wrong long after he heard the door to the guest room close and lock. Not that he was going to give up, of course. Riley never gave up when he set his mind to something, and fuck if he hadn’t set his mind to winning Kelly.

Winning? What the fuck. He’s a dude, not a fucking prize. Or not the kind of prize I can get by throwing a fucking ring over a peg or whatever. I need to win him
over
, I guess, and fuck knows how I’m gonna do that. But what’s that shit they say? Faint heart never won fair... not maiden, for fuck’s sake. Fair Kelly. Oh, man, he’s gonna totally fucking hate me by the time I’m done wooing his fucking ass.

Riley took one final sip of the tequila Kelly had poured, then took his own glass and the one Kelly had left on the end table into the kitchen. He would worry about washing them in the morning. At the moment, he had a plan to devise, and that plan involved an ending that had Kelly in Riley’s bed. Not just once, but repeatedly.

He’d agreed to help Kelly get settled in the apartment downstairs, but Riley didn’t have a single fucking intention of letting the guy stay there for long. Not alone, anyway. Riley called the twinkies-three, just to be sure they were still coming by the next day to help out. James insisted they were, and that was good enough for Riley. He hadn’t figured out what to do about Kelly yet. He might need to play it by ear.

“Whatever it takes to make him see,” Riley murmured into his pillow an hour or so later. “Whatever the fuck it takes.” The last word was strained, emerging on a muffled gasp as Riley’s hand around his own cock encouraged the sharp explosion from him, the memory of Kelly’s moans and gasps driving him to completion.
Fuck.

***

Kelly wasn’t surprised to wake up and find Riley already gone. He wasn’t. And he would tell himself that as many times as necessary for the lie to take. At least Kelly was only lying to himself, though that was small comfort. That Riley’s latest lie had been a means to let Riley see his uncle was less bad than it could have been, but Kelly still didn’t like it. He had to admit Riley was right, though. Just knowing why Riley wanted to talk to Peter Jamison would have made both Kelly and Riley uncomfortable, but would that have meant the whole sexual part of the prior evening never happened?

Well, maybe, or maybe not. Kelly couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that being confronted with a mostly naked and horny Riley might have turned out the same way, regardless of whether Kelly had known Riley was thinking about it beforehand or not. It still hadn’t been a good idea, though, and it was a good thing that Riley had already left; probably for the gym.

It also sucked because that meant Kelly had to actually think about what they’d -- he’d -- done.

Okay, he’d let himself indulge in a serious lack of judgment the night before; there was no question about that. Frottage with Riley had been the worst idea Kelly had ever had, even if it had felt sinfully good.

And on the bright side, I now know what ‘sinfully good’ means. It means Riley, damn it. It was bad enough when it was just that first kiss, but now? God help me.

Kelly frowned slightly as he looked through the open door to Riley’s bedroom one more time, then he shook his head and turned toward the hall bath. A shower would be good. An amnesia pill would be better.

As there were no amnesia pills around that Kelly knew of, the shower would have to do.