Playing With Fire (Glasgow Lads Book 3) (5 page)

“And?”

“You’ve got questions. Questions about what certain things feel like.” Illusive steepled his index fingers together, then met Robert’s eyes. “Like a man’s hand on you, a hand that’s not your own.”

One not-so-small part of Robert twitched in agreement. “I’ve had that, actually.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “With another lad I met on Grindr.” It felt rude to mention it, as though Illusive would be jealous.

“And how was it?”

He winced, thinking of how his last Grindr hookup had seized Robert’s cock like it was a lifeline. “He wasn’t as nice as you.”

Illusive’s dark brows popped above the rims of his glasses. “Nice?”

“He didn’t want to chat. Neither did the one before him. They never even looked me in the eye.” He forced himself to meet Illusive’s gaze. “It was like being reduced to a single organ.”

“And how did your single organ feel about that?”

Robert scanned his ceiling, searching for the perfect word. “Rather liberated, to be honest.”

“Liberated.” Illusive’s voice softened, and his eyes went distant for a moment. “I like the sound of that.” Then he blinked hard and spoke brightly again as he examined Robert’s place. “Don’t you just love these third- and fourth-year student flats? Finally having our own kitchens, our own bathrooms…” He stood slowly and came over. “And best of all, a double bed.”

“Aye.” His skin tingled as he watched Illusive sit beside him with a hungry gaze. Robert had often been the target of gay men’s admiration, and he’d had to work hard to convince them he was straight. Now he didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to lie. So even though his heart was slamming against his ribs, Robert found himself breathing more easily than he had in years.

But when Illusive moved in for a kiss, Robert jerked his head away. “No.” He stopped himself. “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

Illusive sat back. “Is it the glasses? I can take them off.”

“No, don’t. They—they look good on you.”

“Thanks. Also, they make me not blind, so that’s a bonus.” With a crooked smile, he took Robert’s hand. “Shall I try again?”

Robert nodded, but the moment Illusive leaned forward, he said, “Stop.”

Illusive sighed. “What is it you want?”

“I want—other things. Just no kissing.”

Illusive’s expression darkened for the first time. “Why? You worried it’ll mean you’re gay?”

“I already know I’m—” He couldn’t say the word
gay
, as that would be a lie, but he also couldn’t say
bisexual
, as that would be the truth. “I already know I fancy lads. I know I want to—to touch you and suck you. But I cannae kiss you. I don’t know why.”

Illusive pulled back and crossed his arms. “Well, it makes me feel like a prostitute, so you’d best explain or I’m away.”

“I’m saving it.” Robert clamped his mouth shut as his own words echoed in his mind.
Wait, what?

“Ohhhhh.” Illusive’s eyes regained their playful glint. “There’s a lad, isn’t there? Someone you fancy?”

Robert glanced past him at the Warriors banner. “He’s a friend.”

“A gay friend, I hope?” When Robert nodded, Illusive said, “Good job. So you’re saving your first gay kiss for this mate of yours. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve heard all week.”

“It’s not romantic.” His chest grew tight as a vise again. “I don’t know what it is.”

Illusive gave a soft gasp. “And you want someone to practice blowjobs on. So that when you and this friend get together, you’ll be able to impress him.”

Robert shut his eyes. Was that what he was doing? Whatever happened to trying to
forget
Liam? Wasn’t that the whole point of this “date”?

“I don’t mind,” Illusive said. “I rather fancy being part of someone’s journey, especially if it ends in love. It’s nice to make a difference in someone’s life.” He reached up and stroked Robert’s hair soothingly. “Wee favor, though? Let me suck you first so you can see how it’s done.”

“Oh.” Robert hadn’t expected this, but he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse, especially since most of the blood had abandoned his brain at the sound of the words
Let me suck you
. “Okay.”

“Great!” Illusive dropped to his knees, insinuating himself between Robert’s thighs. “Now just relax. But pay attention. But relax.”

Robert leaned back on his hands, his gaze glued to the dark, wet space between the lad’s red lips. “I know how this is done. I’ve had plenty of blowjobs.”

“Girls, right?” He lifted the hem of Robert’s shirt. “Here, take this off. I don’t swallow strangers’ cum, and it’d be a shame to make a mess.”

“Right.” Robert stripped off his top and heard a murmur of admiration from below.

“Your pec pic on your profile is obviously authentic.” Illusive’s eyes feasted on Robert’s chest as he unbuttoned his jeans.

As his zipper descended, part of Robert asked,
What the fuck are you doing? You don’t even know his name!

Another part answered,
I need this—now, before I take another step into this world. I need someone who doesn’t know me, someone who doesn’t matter, someone who can make it all make sense.

When Illusive pulled on his waistband, Robert tilted his hips to allow his jeans to be dragged down to his ankles. Feeling an odd urge to make conversation, he said, “You know, some girls are actually quite good at this.”

“Mm-hm.” Illusive placed a warm hand on Robert’s trembling thigh. “You nervous?”

“No,” Robert said, then heard the rattle of his voice. “A bit.”

“We’re all nervous at the start.” His hand drifted up beneath the hem of Robert’s boxers. “I’ll go slow, okay?”

Robert swallowed. “Okay.”

Illusive moved closer, spreading Robert’s knees. He glanced back up, then his gaze flicked to the wall above the bed. “Interesting. You can’t be too deep in the closet if you’re a Warriors fan.”

“Oh, I’m not a—” Robert stopped himself. “How do you know about u—about them?”

“Are you kidding? They’re legendary in this city.” He gave Robert’s thighs a pair of long, soothing strokes. “I’ve never been to a match, as I loathe football, but I hear it’s a cracking good time. It’s cool they’ve got lesbian and trans players, too, so it’s not a big macho thing.” His eyes sparked with scandalous glee. “I hear they’ve got one egregiously gorgeous straight player. Name’s McAllister or McKellan or something. Apparently everyone calls him ‘McWhataWaste.’”

Robert stared at him. “They do?”

“Aye. You play football?”

“No.” Robert’s gut gave a sharp pang at the lie. Here he was, finally admitting his attraction to men, only to deny another essential part of himself.

“You play
something
, judging by this body of yours.” Illusive tugged the waistband of Robert’s boxers. “Let’s get these off. I might want to suck your balls.”

“Oh—erm…” This was getting surreal. Robert had been with some sexually assertive girls, but none had been so frank about what she planned to do to him. “I think I need a minute.”

“I’m going too fast. I’m so sorry.” Covering his reddening cheeks, Illusive sank back onto his heels. “I specifically said I’d go slow, and here I am, ripping off your—” He stopped, his gaze fixed between Robert’s feet. “What’s this?”

Robert’s pulse quickened, which he didn’t think possible. “What’s what?”

“You said you didn’t play.” Illusive reached under the bed and brought out a mud-spattered football boot. “You wear this for golf?”

Robert’s face burned, and he felt his already half-hearted stauner wither in his boxer shorts. “Does it matter?”

Illusive narrowed his eyes at the Warriors pennant again. “Something’s not adding up here.”

Robert considering lying again, claiming the shoes belonged to a mate who played for the Warriors. But it seemed the deepest betrayal yet. “I’m Robert McKenzie.”

Illusive sucked in a soft breath. “McWhataWaste.” He dropped the boot with a thud. “Oh my God, I’ve hit the Grindr jackpot.”

Panic shot through Robert. “No. You cannae tell anyone.”

Illusive looked offended. “I would never!”

“This was a stupid idea.” Robert shifted, untangling his leg from around the lad. “You need to go.” He stood and bent over to pull up his jeans.

“I said I wouldn’t tell.” Illusive stayed on his knees beside the bed. “Even if I did, wouldn’t you at least like to get a blowjob out of it?”

“What do you mean?” Robert winced as he jerked the zipper over his semi-erection.

“I could still tell the world that we met on Grindr, that you invited me to your room, that you asked to suck my cock, and that I nearly sucked yours until you kicked me out in a self-hating homophobic rage.”

“That’s not what I’m—is that a threat?”

“It’s logic. If you’re ashamed of what you might do in the next ten minutes, then you’re ashamed of what you’ve done in the
past
ten minutes.” He gave a whimsical pout. “In for a penny, in for a pound, aye?”

It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. There wasn’t much additional harm to be had by seeing things through. And Robert could learn valuable skills to use on other lads.

Aye, right,
other lads
. There was only one he wanted as his first. His first kiss, his first blowjob, his first…everything involving mouths and other openings.

“I’m not ashamed.” Robert frowned at his own crotch. “But I’m also not so much in the mood.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry I ruined this. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Illusive heaved a melodramatic sigh as he rose to sit on the bed. “I was just so excited, meeting a Glasgay icon like yourself.”

Robert felt his cheeks warm. “I’m not an icon.”

“No, you’re a nice guy. And I’m too in love with my own cleverness. Can you imagine me a spy, being like, ‘Ha! I know where you put those secret files, and here’s how I worked it out!’?” He spread his hands like he was opening a giant book. “‘See all the clues you left? Wait—is that a firing squad?’”

Robert managed a gruff laugh as he sat on the bed. “Can I buy you a coffee to make up for wasting your time?”

“Absolutely.” Illusive handed him his shirt. “Put this on first.”

Robert pulled it on, relieved the lad wasn’t storming out in a rage. “Hey, want to see something cool?” He reached over and grabbed his pillow, along with what lay beneath it. “In fact, you can keep this one and I’ll get another.”

“A gift?” Illusive pressed a palm to his chest in a mock swoon. “You realize that according to Grindr terms of service, this means we’re married.”

“In that case, you’d better tell me your real name.”

Illusive opened his mouth, shut it, then looked down at his toes, tapping them together. “It’s Ben.”

“Okay, Ben.” Robert tossed the pillow aside to reveal the Warriors calendar. “Enjoy.”

“You dog. Trying to make a football fan of me?” He grabbed the calendar and flipped the pages, cooing at the photos of Fergus, Colin, and Marcelo in the first three months. When he reached April, he let out another gasp. “There you are. And look at that magnificent ginger—” Ben’s eyes went tender as they rose to meet Robert’s. “That’s him, isn’t it?” He gave Robert an affectionate shoulder bump. “The one you want?”

Robert sighed, gazing at the photo in front of them. Down below, the tension in his gut had turned to the unfamiliar calm of pure, simple acceptance.

“Aye,” he whispered, and it was both relief and agony to speak the words aloud. “That’s him.”

L
IAM
HATED
SILENCE
. Once, when he was eleven, a case of laryngitis left him speechless for a week. Feeling like his soul had been ripped out, he’d asked his mother for one of those Stephen Hawking machines with a robot voice to replace his own. How cool that would’ve been.

Even here on the shores of Loch Lomond, with the dark waves lapping against the land, with the night wind rattling the trees’ bare branches, with the muted rumble of trucks on the distant A82, Liam longed to fill the space between him and his best mate with talk talk talk.

But it was Robert’s turn to break the silence, ideally by finishing the thought he’d started three nights ago on Glasgow Green.
“It’s nothing you’ve done wrong,”
he’d said. Yet Liam couldn’t shake the feeling they were on the verge of a life-changing conversation.

Like the one during the sleepover when they were nine and Robert revealed his mum was dying. Or the one when they were thirteen and Liam had confessed he was gay, and Robert had responded with unconditional support but a heart-stomping lack of
Me too—let’s kiss!

That was the last day Liam had dared hope they could be more than mates. It had been for the best, as Robert went on to become the world’s most loyal and loving straight friend.

Which is why it gutted Liam to feel that friendship slip away.

They sat now on either side of the campfire, drinking beer and digesting a dinner of stick-roasted sausages. Their backs were turned to the dying flames—and each other—to save their night vision, the better to see whichever stars the full moon’s light wasn’t obliterating. It was the first time Liam could remember having a clear sky for their annual Big Bob memorial camping expedition.

“Last call.” Liam got up to retrieve the final pair of beers. He opened them and handed one to Robert, who grunted a thanks, then returned to his own seat. After a few sips, Liam said, “Let’s live here.”

“What, in the park?”

“Why not? It’s only five quid a night.”

“They close for the winter next week,” Robert said.

“Then we’ll stay in Luss.” Liam nodded to the twinkling village on the loch’s far shore. “I’ll open a sport pub—a gay sport pub.”

Robert was silent for several moments. “That would actually be amazing.”

Liam smiled. Finally he’d cracked Robert’s frozen shell. “Talking of booze, we should toast your dad now.” The tradition made Liam uneasy, considering Mr. McKenzie had died of liver disease. A once-recovering alcoholic, he’d plummeted off the wagon after losing his wife to lung cancer.

“You go first,” Robert said.

Liam raised his bottle to the stars. “Big Bob, every day I knew you, I wished you were my dad. That’s not changed to this day. And thanks again for setting up the Robert J. McKenzie memorial camping fund so Rabbie and I can do this every year no matter how skint we are. I love you, big man.” Then he tapped his fingernail against the bottle. “That’s my clink. Cheers.”