Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (8 page)

Kelly grinned suddenly and tweaked Riley’s ear. “Hey!” Riley deliberately yelped, then tugged at the long, wavy strands he still held, and Kelly laughed. It was way better than the anger and shit Riley remembered from five minutes before.

“On the count of three,” Kelly muttered, waiting for Riley’s nod before starting the count. “One. Two.
Three!
” Hands released and Riley laughed as Kelly jumped back, nearly tripping over Goober. Kelly caught himself quickly, and gracefully enough that Riley was reminded yet again. Kelly might be smaller and less bulky than Riley himself, but Kelly was
fast
... and flexible, judging by the contortions involved in not falling over while barely touching the big-ass hell-hound. Cool.

“I don’t know which bag the ice cream’s in, but we need to find it,” Riley said as he turned away from Kelly and looked at the many plastic sacks. “Time’s running out, and there’s nothing worse than re-frozen chocolate mint chip. I got some of those little cans of mandarin oranges, too. Just in case you want to make any of those citrus bomb things or whatever.”

“Citrus Explosions,” Kelly answered. “I think you’ve discovered the one exception to my ‘no canned food’ rule.”

Kelly fell right in with opening bags. “I found the ice cream,” he added a moment later. Riley grabbed the carton, putting it in the freezer, and by the time they’d finished getting everything put up, it was almost like the weird argument and its equally bizarre conclusion had never happened. Only almost, though.

***

He’d kissed Riley. Kelly tried to forget it, but he couldn’t. He’d kissed Riley and Riley hadn’t shoved him or hit him or any one of the dozen reactions Kelly had expected. Instead, Riley had just stood there, then...
No. I’m imagining things. He did
not
kiss me back. He’s straight and I’m a guy, so there’s no way Riley kissed me back.

He thought he should probably be mad that Riley had waited so long to state his straightness, but Kelly didn’t feel like being angry again. And it wasn’t as though Riley had pretended to be gay, was it? Kelly had made some assumptions, but that was his own fault. If Riley said he was straight, then the man was straight.

The logic was simple, really, and Kelly was a big fan of logic. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake the conviction that Riley had been into the kiss, at least for a minute or so. Enough to grab Kelly’s hair and not use that hold to drag Kelly’s mouth away.

It was weird. Damned weird. And kind of intriguing, if Kelly was being honest. Riley’s mouth had tasted like Gatorade -- the blue kind -- and Riley’s scent of clean male musk still lingered in Kelly’s nostrils, even after close to an hour. It was definitely enough to be disturbing, because the very last thing Kelly wanted or needed was to start imagining that a self-proclaimed heterosexual man was even slightly interested in men in general or Kelly in particular.

But he does talk about that Pauly guy’s ass a lot, and he’s really comfortable with gay men. Does he even know any straight guys? If he does, he sure doesn’t talk about them much. Except maybe that friend of his from the gym. And maybe he’s bi but doesn’t want to say so.

Of course, there was probably a much simpler explanation, like Riley had been being polite or something. Maybe the whole being kissed by a guy thing wasn’t a big deal. Or else Riley didn’t want to make a fuss. The guy was one of the most laid-back people Kelly had ever met, and that was saying a lot.

Whatever the reason, Riley hadn’t mentioned the kiss while they’d put away the rest of the groceries. Kelly had talked about vegetables while they figured out what to make for dinner, and Riley had mentioned a few of the
Food-O-Vision
shows he liked. It was comfortable, really, which still surprised Kelly as they sat on the sofa, empty plates stacked on the coffee table in front of them. The air still smelled just a little bit of the omelets with cheese and salsa that Riley had made, and there was some strange-looking game showing on one of the sports channels. It seemed to involve really long-handled ping pong paddles and a two-sectioned goal.

“What did you call this again?” Kelly grinned when Goobs rolled over, clearly wanting his belly rubbed, which Kelly did, running his foot lightly over slightly wiry fur.

Riley chuckled and darted a superior glance at him before answering. “Dude. With a name like O’Connor, I would think you’d fucking recognize it. It’s
hurling
, man.” Riley smirked. “Oddly enough, it doesn’t look a fucking thing like what I first thought of when I heard the words ‘professional hurling,’ but I was in high school at the time. It’s Irish.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, the only Irish thing about me is my name. My birth father was married to my mom for about a minute. Just long enough to cut and run once I was born. Well, okay. I was maybe two, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t remember him at all.”

“Ouch.” Riley frowned, then shook his head. “That’s gotta suck. Not the part where you don’t remember him, but the part where you’re stuck being grateful for your existence to some fucking asshole. Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine,” Kelly said, eyes trained on the television. “My stepdad’s great and my brother and sister totally rock. I’m lucky Mom found a guy who doesn’t care about my genetics, you know? And Grandfather’s never punished me for my sperm donor being a jackhole, either, so things could be worse.” He smiled, toes ruffling Goober’s fur more. “Doug still says he wouldn’t mind if I wanted to become a Roderick instead of staying an O’Connor, but at this point, I don’t think it would do any good. Besides, it might hurt my new school if I changed my name now. So, how does this hurling thing work?”

Riley took the change of subject well enough and started to explain about the goal system. Kelly lost track after a few minutes, though he continued to watch Riley’s lips. The man really did have a nice mouth, Kelly decided. Soft lips that were pink rather than red. Lips that were so expressive when Riley spoke. It was mesmerizing, in a way, just seeing them move. “You listening?”

Kelly blinked, Riley’s question pulling him from his careful contemplation. “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I was listening. Um, points up top and goals below... I think?” God, how embarrassing.

“Dude. Now you know just as much about fucking hurling as I do. It’s pretty cool to watch, though. Unless we’re talking about the other kind, because I became a
master
at that, the summer after high school.” Riley offered up a wry smirk. “It wasn’t fucking pretty.”

“I’ll bet,” Kelly agreed, turning toward Riley when a commercial started. It was then that he noticed the time on the DVD player. “Oh, crap! You needed to be at work fifteen minutes ago! God, I’m sorry! I’ve been all...”

“Shit.” Riley sighed. “Okay, you’re not gonna like this. Or I don’t think you will, since you got so fucking pissed off about me not telling you Peter’s my uncle, but... I decided to use some of my sick time. My boss saddled me with training this fucking shitheaded asshole, and it turns out he’s related to the boss’s wife, so...” A shrug, followed by a sheepish look. “It’s only been a couple days and I figured you’d get all freaked out, thinking I’m gonna get in trouble at work, so I didn’t want to say anything, man.”

Kelly cocked his head, trying to follow the rapid-fire words. After a second or two he got the gist of it. “What’s with you and the lying? God, it’s like you’re six and don’t know any better.” And it made Kelly wonder whether he could believe anything Riley said. Except that wasn’t fair. He understood why Riley hadn’t mentioned being Peter Jamison’s nephew. It made sense, especially if Riley had thought Kelly was Peter’s newest lay. Kelly could only imagine how some of the former downstairs tenants might have tried to use that to their advantage.

It also made sense that Riley hadn’t wanted to worry Kelly, just like Riley said. Kelly didn’t know why Riley would care whether he was worried or not, but that part didn’t matter. It was kind of sweet that Riley cared at all.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Riley looked at him and pulled a very elaborate face while leaning away as far as possible without leaving the couch. “Shit, man. You’re not gonna kiss me again, are you?”

Of all the ways Kelly had considered the subject of their kiss coming up, that hadn’t even been on the list. But it was so... Riley, it surprised a laugh from Kelly. “You wish,” he said. “But it sure did shut you up, didn’t it?” And that had been the point, Kelly reminded himself, well aware of the fact that
he
was the one lying, this time. Silently, granted, but still lying.

“Guess so,” Riley agreed, grinning widely. “Just do me a favor and never fucking mention it to the twinkies-three. Pauly and Randy would never let me live it down. Shit, they’d probably want to take a fucking shot at it themselves. Just for shits and giggles. I doubt James would give a fuck, unless they were serious when they did it, but he’s the sane one of the group.”

Kelly didn’t have any problem with making that promise. Even the idea of Pauly or Randy trying to kiss Riley quiet was nauseating. Kelly didn’t know why -- didn’t want to know why -- but it for damned sure made him queasy. Crap.

Chapter Seven

Three days since the weird moment in his kitchen and Riley was no closer to finding disgust or revulsion within himself. He’d kissed a dude, no matter which of them had started it, and he kind of thought it should bother him, but it still didn’t. The passage of time between the act and the present moment hadn’t changed things. Apparently, a kiss was just a fucking kiss. So he’d kissed a dude and he felt exactly the same way he’d felt before.

He still thought Kelly was hot and he still liked the guy. Riley was pretty sure they were going to be friends for as long as Kelly lived in the house, which would probably be a while, judging by the amount of shopping Kelly was doing. Riley had been under the impression that Kelly had his shit coming from California, but there was definitely a lot of new purchasing going on. Every time Riley looked, Kelly was on the ‘net, comparing couches and chairs and bedroom sets and pillows... and whatever-the-fuck-else gay dudes furnished their homes with.

It might sound like a cliché, even in Riley’s mind, but Kelly obviously had the gay shopping gene. The guy wanted shit that went together, or created a
theme
or some fucking thing. And while Riley appreciated that Kelly asked his opinion, what the fuck did Riley know? His own furniture had been given to him, for the most part, and the few items he’d bought were things he’d chosen because he liked them or they were comfortable. He didn’t know a single fucking thing about decorating, and fuck if he didn’t plan to keep it that way. He needed to get on the lead contractor about finishing up the downstairs apartment, though. That much, Riley did know about.

“Do you think this will go with that dining set I ordered yesterday?” Kelly called out from the living room, where the guy had set up his laptop after finally unpacking it and finding it thankfully unharmed by the storm. “It’s kind of similar, but...”

Riley rolled his eyes but he was smiling when he strolled out of the kitchen, a bottle of sports drink in his hand. He moved up behind the couch, looking down over Kelly’s shoulder at some... carved wooden thing that was meant to be art, maybe. The picture on the web page had it hanging on a wall, anyway.

“Uh. Dude.” Riley’s brow furrowed. “Fuck if I know. You should talk to Ballard, man. He knows all about that decorating shit, just like the rest of you gay guys. Now, if you want to know about big-ass flat-screen TV sets, I can help you.”

Kelly’s head rose and he tossed out a smile that somehow hit Riley in the gut. “I don’t buy electronics online,” Kelly announced. “But I was planning to ask whether you’d mind going to the store with me for that. I never quite trust the picture quality unless I can see it for myself, and my old stuff is exactly that. Old. I’m thinking I’m due for something decent. So what do you say? Want to come with me later? I’ll even buy you dinner as a thank you.”

Riley shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. It’s not exactly a fucking chore to check out all the new shit, right? And dinner’s cool. Just no fast food, okay? I’m starting a new training regimen tomorrow and I don’t need the saturated fats.”

Kelly snorted and turned back to the computer. “As if I’d offer you dinner, then take you to Taco Bell. Please. Oh, hey! Maybe we can stop by the school. I think the repairs were supposed to be finished today. Or almost finished. Something like that.”

It took Riley a minute to remember what school Kelly was talking about, but he nodded. “Cool. I’d love to see your new business.” He grinned. “Besides, maybe I’ll sign up for some classes once you open. It could be fun. So enjoy your shopping or whatever. I’m gonna head out to the gym. See you.”

Gym bag in hand, Riley left his apartment ten minutes later. He got into his Ford and started off, using his time at the stop sign to call Ballard. “Dude,” he left as voice mail, “I know how fussy you can be, so I figured I’d give you a heads-up. Kelly’s trying to decorate the downstairs apartment by himself. If you don’t help him, you won’t have anyone to blame when whatever he ends up with makes you puke. Vomit doesn’t work at a house warming, right? Just saying, man. Later.”

Yeah, Riley thought, smirking, that should do it. And maybe Kelly was doing a good job, but Riley for fucking sure couldn’t tell. At least Ballard’s input would probably keep Kelly from any kind of embarrassment later, and that was the whole point. It made Riley feel uncomfortable when Kelly was upset, and that meant he had good reason to try to avoid it. He would do the same for anyone he considered a friend. Riley was almost sure of that much.

Besides, if Ballard was at Riley’s trying to help Kelly, that meant Jeremy would be home, and Riley needed some fucking time with his best friend. Not that he didn’t see Jeremy enough, but they almost never had the chance to spend time alone, without Ballard or the twinkies-three. So yeah. A little one-on-one time with Jeremy was an added benefit. Riley was looking forward to it.

His workout was good, even with Pablo hitting on him every five minutes or so. That wasn’t unusual, anyway. Pablo hit on anyone with a pulse and a penis. Usually, Riley thought it was funny, but this time, the Spanish man’s attentions were more annoying than anything else. It almost seemed like Pablo was serious, which didn’t make a single bit of sense. Fuck. Pablo was good looking, sure, but he knew Riley was straight.

And he’s not acting any different, anyway. He’s just being his usual horny fucking self. So why do I get the feeling that if I took him up on it, he’d be all over me? Is it something new, or have I just been that fucking blind all this time?

Good questions. No fucking answers. As usual, for fuck’s sake. Even so, Riley chuckled like always and shot Pablo down. Pablo didn’t seem to mind -- also as usual -- and by the time Riley finished his sets and took a quick shower, Pablo was helping another gym member bathe, so maybe Riley had imagined it all.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Jeremy said an hour or so later, when he returned home from school and let Riley into the Ballard house. “Pablo likes you. I’m pretty sure he’d throw himself down, legs spread, if you ever gave him even the smallest hope. I thought you knew that.”

“Christ.” Riley shook his head and followed Jeremy through the house. They stopped in the kitchen to grab sodas, then headed out to the back deck. “Seriously, Jer, if I’m gonna turn to the rainbow side of life, it won’t be with Pablo. Fuck, that dude gets more ass than a proctologist.”

Jeremy smiled and took a sip of orange pop. “Pablo doesn’t top,” he said, still grinning. “But you’re right. He gets more cock than any one man rightfully needs. So.” Jeremy’s eyes narrowed and Riley swallowed hard at the concern he saw there. “What’s wrong, Riley? You’ve never just stopped by unless there was something bothering you. You might as well tell me now instead of waiting until you’re about to leave, because we both know that’s your usual MO.”

Riley blinked and leaned against the deck railing beside his friend. He couldn’t say Jeremy was wrong. He really did tend to bullshit, then spout stuff when he could run away. Riley didn’t know he had anything to talk about, though. He was just there to hang out, after weeks of not seeing Jeremy at all when there weren’t loads of other people around. He opened his mouth to say so, but what came out was... not that.

“How did you know?” Riley frowned at the sudden sense of relief the words brought him, but fuck it. Relief was relief, and apparently he’d been wanting to ask before but hadn’t known it. “Sorry, man. I mean... how did you know you were bi? Back before you went and got all gay as a fucking stroll down the yellow brick road with Ballard. There had to be some point where you were just rolling along doing chicks and you saw some dude and went ‘that could be good, too,’ right? So how did you know it was a real fucking attraction and not just you being curious and shit about being a shirt-lifter?”

Okay, that was an expression Riley had never seen on Jeremy’s face, not even all the times Riley had scandalized the guy with the crazy shit that sometimes came out of his mouth. Jer looked like he’d just been whacked in the head with a board and wasn’t sure whether to fight or fall over. It was kind of cool, really.

“Um. What?”

Riley tried to laugh but the sound that came from his mouth seemed strained and sharp, even to him. “I kissed a dude. Or he kissed me. Whichever. And it didn’t suck, Jer. It was... fuck, it felt good. And I keep trying to forget about it, but I can’t. It’s like I can still smell him, taste him. But I don’t know if that means I’m bi-fucking-sexual or if it’s just this one fucking dude, you know? I mean, you know I can look at dudes and admit when they’re hot and stuff, but this is different. It’s more… I don’t know. Intense, I guess. So I figured I’d ask you, since you’re the only bi guy I know, even if you’re biting pillows these days, or whatever it is you and Ballard do together.”

Riley hadn’t realized that he still remembered Kelly’s scent and flavor so well after three days, but he did. Saying it out loud only made it that much clearer. And fuck if he didn’t remember the way Kelly’s hair had felt between his fingers... and maybe that was what he’d been dreaming about lately. He still didn’t remember. Riley just knew that he’d woken up more than once in the dark with his heart pounding, cock hard, hands reaching for something that wasn’t there, before taking care of business and dropping back to sleep.

Jeremy’s stare was wide-eyed and matched completely by his gaping mouth. It gave the guy a sort of goldfish look that was fucking hilarious, but Riley didn’t laugh. Not because it wasn’t funny, but because Jer looked like he was about an inch away from a heart attack.

“Jer. Dude.” Riley forced a smile. “I get that you’re totally fucking stunned, but do you think you could stop with the boggling and answer my fucking question?”

Jeremy startled, his mouth closing with a loud snap. “I. Sorry. Sorry, Ry. It’s just... honestly, that’s the last thing I ever expected to hear coming out of your mouth. You kissed a guy? Really?” A few blinks came and went so quickly, Riley couldn’t count them. “Oh, shit. Tell me this isn’t about Pablo! He’s not the right kind of guy to be getting curious about, Riley, and you know it! I know he’s gorgeous, but so does
he,
and...” Jeremy stopped, then shook his head and took another long swig of soda. “You know what? Never mind. Pablo might be the perfect guy to figure things out with. As long as you don’t go into it expecting any sort of relationship, it should be fine. So, yeah. Go for it. Um, be safe and stuff, okay? Because Pablo really does screw around a lot.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop talking, already. I told you I’m not into Pablo. Shit, Jer, I wouldn’t touch Pablo with a ten-foot pole. And I’m hung like a fucking god, but not ten feet’s worth. Jesus Christ.” Riley rolled his eyes and thanked God that Jeremy laughed.

“Who, then?” Jeremy demanded and Riley almost told him, except...

“What the fuck difference does it make?” Riley answered. “I’m not asking you to tell me what to do, man. I just want to know how you knew you liked dudes. At some point, you had to be dating women or girls or whatever. So what was it that made you think ‘okay, I like guys, too, and I want me some fucking cock and man-ass’?” He felt himself blushing, but that was fine. It was Jeremy, after all, and Jer wouldn’t say anything about Riley’s red face. Not ever.

Jeremy sighed and looked away. “It wasn’t like that for me, Ry. I always knew I liked both. From when I was a kid having my first wet dreams. After a while, I ended up dating guys more than girls because there just weren’t that many girls I was attracted to. I mean, girls were always a possibility, but it wasn’t really about gender.”

Another long swig of soda and Jeremy set the can down on the flat wooden rail. “When I met Troy, it was partly that he wanted something real, not just a fuck -- even if he didn’t know it at the time. But then I fell for him, and... I don’t know, Ry. But whoever this guy is -- the one you kissed, I mean -- if you liked it, and
he
liked it, then maybe it’s worth thinking about. And just so you know, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re bisexual. It could just be this one guy, like you said. That happens sometimes, you know?”

Riley groaned and finished off his own orange pop. “No, I
don’t
fucking know. That’s why I asked
you
. Duh.” He frowned and crumpled the empty can into a wad. “I guess I need to find out, right? But fuck if I know how to do that. I can’t just walk up to the dude and be all ‘hey, kissing was cool, let’s try some more shit,’ right? Shit.” Shit didn’t even begin to cover it, really.

As far as Riley knew, Kelly wasn’t seeing anyone. Fuck, he’d have been surprised if Kelly was. Between the concussion, Goober, and shopping to fill the new apartment, the guy had barely left the house since arriving in the storm. Riley was sure Kelly had spoken numerous times with the other guy, Kelly’s business partner, but Kelly had pretty much been home whenever Riley was.

Kelly also hadn’t shown any signs that he was interested in Riley, aside from that kiss, and even if he had, Riley wasn’t sure about what he would have done. The kiss had been good. Better than good, when Riley let himself think about it. But Kelly hadn’t tried it again and seemed cool with just hanging out. That didn’t imply any great attraction, as far as Riley could tell.

And yet... the idea of kissing Kelly again wasn’t bad. Wasn’t even close to bad. But when Riley thought about seriously kissing some other dude -- Pablo, maybe, or any one of the twinkies-three, or even Jeremy -- the whole idea left him cold. Well, more like only slightly warm, but that wasn’t exactly new. “Maybe it really is just--” Riley said, Jeremy’s voice clashing with his own.

“You should go out,” Jer was saying, a small, sheepish smile crossing his lips when he spoke over Riley. “Sorry, but you said you didn’t know how to find out, and that’s easy, Ry. You should go out. To a club. Take a look around and see whether anyone makes you hot. It’s probably the easiest way, and it would expose you to a lot of different kinds of guys. And I know you’ve been there before, but this time, you’d be looking. On purpose. That makes a difference, I think. I can talk to Troy. Maybe we’ll all go together.”