Bad Influence

by K.A. Mitchell

  WHEN SILVER went in to work lunch the next morning, he found out Travis had quit and Lisa was on forced bed rest until she dropped her baby. He’d been promoted to full-time waitstaff, which meant a hell of a lot more hours and no breaks. His next day off came after working sixty hours in four days. But he had more in his pocket in tips than he’d had after some of his porn work, and only his feet hurt. That Tuesday he woke up, ate, and took his pill before crashing again.

  Eli shook him awake in the afternoon-hot room to tell him Zeb was there with a freaky large pile of books. Silver couldn’t remember his dreams, but he felt like he was still in one.

  “Books?” Silver swung his feet onto the floor and squinted at them. They’d been sore. He wiggled his toes. Better.

  “Don’t you have a study date?” Eli said, and everything crashed back to reality.

  “Right.” Studying with slash seducing Zeb. Silver pissed and washed up, brushed the fuzz off his teeth, then disgusted himself by spending a good two minutes trying to figure out what to wear. Most of his clothes fell into either a fuck-me or fuck-off category. Nothing middle-of-the-road. He went with a tank top and his one pair of shorts. The fact that it was ninety degrees out should make it less obviously a let’s-fuck and more about the heat.

  His bare feet skidded on the wood floor of the dining room when he saw Eli hadn’t been kidding about the size of the book pile. Worse, the pile was made up of thin books. The kind of thing they’d called workbooks in school.

  Yeah, maybe he’d get around to taking his GED, but he hadn’t planned to do much actual studying with Zeb.

  “We can go into the living room. It’s more comfortable.” Shit. That sounded like a majorly corny come-on.

  Zeb’s smile was friendly, but Silver could tell Zeb was in teacher mode. “Comfortable but hard to get work done.”

  The ominous pile of books was in the middle of the table, next to a couple of nectarines. Silver snatched up one and slid into a seat alongside Zeb, right as Eli came in.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Silver waved the nectarine.

  “Don’t thank me.” Eli held his hands up, palms out.

  Zeb murmured, “I thought they’d be a good snack.”

  A quick flush in Silver’s cheeks surprised him. As much of a surprise as Zeb remembering nectarines were Silver’s favorite. He bit into it, juice running down his chin. A good one for early season. He started to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, remembered he was supposed to be seducing a guy, and licked up the juice instead, cleaning off his chin with a thumb he then sucked in the most obscene way he could manage.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Eli asked Zeb. “Quinn’s at the gym, so we probably won’t eat until seven.”

  “Um….” Zeb’s eyes were fixed on Silver’s mouth, throat working as he tried to answer Eli. “No.” Zeb looked away with an effort Silver found encouraging. “Thank you, though.”

  Eli went into the kitchen and came out with a napkin he handed to Silver, along with an accompanying eye roll. Standing behind Zeb, Eli mouthed Study at Silver before disappearing again.

  Zeb’s gaze shifted everywhere but back at Silver’s face. “I know you specifically mentioned math, but these booklets cover all the parts of the test. I thought we’d start with a pretest and see where you’d need help. I covered pretty much everything when I was teaching in Haiti.” Zeb pulled the top workbook from the pile and opened it.

  Silver knew Zeb was all about the good deeds, and he was a dedicated teacher, but he really couldn’t imagine him in Haiti. “Did you like it there?”

  Zeb paused in consideration, as if the question was as confusing as the uses of the freaking semicolon in the sixth question in the grammar section. He rubbed his shoulder for a minute. “I loved the teaching. I wanted to finish what I’d started.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I got malaria.”

  “But I thought—didn’t you get shots?”

  Zeb nodded. “And we were on a daily dose of a prophylactic, but they ran out for a while.”

  “So, that’s something you always have, then, right?”

  Zeb tipped his head, brows arched as if he was wondering why Silver would care about that. Yeah, Silver wanted payback, but he’d never have wanted Zeb to get sick. Not with something that lived inside him forever. “Yes,” Zeb said finally. “Mine is drug resistant.”

  “That sucks.” The next few exam questions were easy. All he had to do was think about how someone with a stick up his ass talked, and that was the right answer. But the silence was uncomfortable.

  “So, how were the guys in Haiti?”

  Zeb leaned back in his chair. “Stop stalling.” But his face didn’t match the sternness of his words.

  “I’m not. Look.” Silver spun the workbook around so Zeb could see there was only one question left in the first part. After circling the right answer, Silver said, “I answered those. You gonna answer mine?”

  “There weren’t any,” Zeb said as he scanned the booklet.

  “Not a single male human in Haiti? That’s got to cut down on overpopulation.”

  “I wasn’t there for—it wasn’t safe. Their culture is different.”

  Silver knew plenty of otherwise-straight guys who’d do gay for pay or take any hole they could to get off. Guys couldn’t be much different in other countries.

  “How long were you there?”

  “Twenty months.”

  Silver might not be interested in bumping bits with anyone right now. But twenty months was a long time to go without. The next question mattered for his plan, but the way his voice hit a snag on the way out meant it mattered more than he wanted it to. “How ’bout now?”

  “Now what?” Zeb set Silver up with the next part of his pretest.

  “Are you with someone now, or making up for lost time?”

  Zeb rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Jordan, I’m not sure that’s something we should talk about.”

  “You said you wanted to be friends again. I’m going to go with a yes for your answer, then.” And look. This section was on reading comprehension, otherwise known as reading between the lines. Silver should get a bonus point for already getting one right. What kind of guy would Zeb be dating? Some nerdy guy in glasses with sweater-vests, who’d take Zeb out for coffee. As if some guy in a sweater-vest could give Zeb the long, hard dicking Silver knew Zeb loved.

  “You would be wrong.”

  “Huh?” Silver hadn’t written anything down yet.

  “In your assumption. I’m not seeing anyone now.”

  “Okay.” Damn right, because Mr. Imaginary Sweater-Vest didn’t give him what he needed. Silver hid his smile in his nectarine as he went through questions ranging from stupidly easy to brainteaser, but he knew this wouldn’t be a part of the test he was going to have problems with.

  “Social studies,” Zeb announced as he flipped open the workbook to the next section.

  This was going to be the boring part, the hard part. But it didn’t have to be. Because this wasn’t really about studying for a test, Silver reminded himself. He moved like he was getting closer to the table but dragged his knee along Zeb’s thigh. Until then, he’d forgotten they were both wearing shorts. Right away, the prickle and tease of hair on Zeb’s leg dragged against Silver’s, making a nice rash of tingling goose bumps pop up. He shifted back, and Zeb answered the pressure, warm calf against his.

  Simple pleasure in the touch of skin. It didn’t wake up his cock, didn’t feel like an approach he needed to decide how to respond to. Just there. And nice.

  He knew he was getting a lot more questions wrong in this part, and not only so Zeb would have to keep tutoring him. It was too lame to care about. Same with the science part, big words and people’s names attached to theories Silver was supposed to remember after all these years.

  When he started on the math part, he asked Zeb to give him a quick refresher on the formulas. A couple of hints on some base-times-height and distance-divided-b
y-rate and solving-for-x, and the rest of it seemed to bubble up from the back of his head. After the last two parts, it felt good to get stuff right again.

  “It’s all coming back to me now.” He pressed against Zeb’s leg, and swear to God he only meant it in a friendly way that time, a thanks-for-the-help way. And there was no double meaning in what he’d said.

  But Zeb glanced over, a regretful smile on his lips and a look in his eyes showing he knew what game Silver was playing.

  His cheeks burned. He could not be blushing. He had done porn. How the fuck could he be going this red in the face over something as simple as rubbing his calf on Zeb’s?

  Zeb’s lashes lowered as he wet a thumb to turn a page in the book he was using. Silver remembered that expression so well. The slightly embarrassed look when Silver got a little affectionate—usually more than a little—in a too-public place. The not-now shake of his head had always been followed by Zeb shooting over a glance that promised all Silver could handle when they were alone. But this time Zeb’s gaze stayed on the workbook, and his leg inched carefully away from Silver’s.

  Silver wanted to grab his face, kiss him, force the understanding that this thing between them couldn’t be brushed away with an apology and some tutoring help. He wanted to remind him how it had been, Zeb clinging, his fingers digging in hard anywhere on Silver he could reach, hungry for more. Wanted Zeb to look at him the way he used to, like Silver was sharing something amazing and precious with him. Something Zeb could only find with him.

  Silver saw himself kissing a whimper out of Zeb’s throat. Biting out a moan from his jaw. Then he’d turn Zeb around, yank down his pants, and bend him over the table. Shove inside him, spit and skin, fuck him right on that smooth polished surface where Eli played host, make the books fly everywhere as Zeb tried to find a way to hold on against the slam of Silver’s cock. And when he was done, he’d let—

  “Are you finished?” Zeb asked.

  Silver swallowed. No. This wasn’t going to be finished for a while yet. “Got a few more.” Silver turned to the side to keep the tension in his shorts from becoming obvious. He hurried through the last page and slid it back. Probably could have done better, but his concentration was still busy fucking Zeb into next week.

  Zeb flipped through the pretest. “Good. You’ll need some extra practice with science and social studies, but—”

  “Homework? Seriously?”

  “But,” Zeb went on, “you’re in great shape. You should be ready to take the exam at the August test session.”

  August was two months away. Silver couldn’t remember the last time he’d had plans so far ahead. Assuming they didn’t throw his ass in jail, he supposed he could take the test. A little surge of pride reminded him Zeb had said he was in great shape. So school was lame. Didn’t mean Silver didn’t have a brain.

  Zeb pulled out a workbook labeled GED Science. “I got you these books for practice, and I’ll come help as often as I can before I leave.”

  “Leave? For what?” Silver’s pulse throbbed in his ears, drowning out most of Zeb’s explanation. He was leaving? He’d just moved here.

  With the angry rush of sound, Silver only picked up a few words.

  “Camp where I met Quinn last summer. Kids with cancer. Plenty of time for review.”

  “When?” That one word was all he was sure he could manage to say clearly.

  Zeb seemed like he had to force himself to do it, but he met Silver’s gaze steadily. His voice was calm, but at least he didn’t act like it didn’t matter. “A little less than a month. I have to leave on June 20.”

  Chapter Nine

  GOD, THE workbooks were so fucking boring.

  Since Zeb had dropped his bombshell and wandered in his oblivious Zen cloud out the door yesterday, Silver had tried to look at the science book ten times. If there was a time limit for getting Zeb panting and desperate, he’d have to need less actual academic interaction. He’d skimmed to the part about sexual reproduction, but it was mostly about plants, and he didn’t see how he could use that to turn on anyone who wasn’t a florist.

  The house was too quiet. Eli was off on a photo shoot with Nate, so that distraction was off the table. Not getting any texts from Marco suggested that he’d lost custody of his phone, which wouldn’t be the first time. Timo treated him like he was twelve instead of someone going to college. Every time Silver thought of texting him, he worried that he’d be making things worse.

  The sound of Nate’s scooter made Silver ridiculously glad Eli was back, even if he had to put up with Nate’s attitude.

  He hauled the science workbook onto his lap again, opened it, and muttered, “Hey,” when Eli came in.

  “Hey.” Eli’s answer was distracted. Come to think of it, Eli hadn’t even bothered to ask how the lesson had gone yesterday.

  Silver thought he’d find Eli in the kitchen, but it was empty. He poured himself an iced tea, and when Eli did show, he looked startled and unhappy to find Silver there.

  What had he done?

  Supposing Eli didn’t kick him out, Silver didn’t want to stay if he was causing problems. He pictured Quinn at the table last night. He hadn’t seemed any different. And they’d gone to bed early. Silver had stayed up with the TV blaring to drown anything out.

  Still, Silver moving in like this had been too much to dump on even a mellow boyfriend. Silver hadn’t exactly been pleasant about it, and it had to be a drag for Quinn. He hoped Jamie wouldn’t take moving someplace else as Silver ignoring police orders. He’d still make his court date. He owed them all that much.

  Silver didn’t know what the fuck to say. He’d never needed to come up with anything to start a conversation with Eli. It was eerie him being so quiet, looking everywhere but at Silver.

  Eli took two bites out of a container of potato salad and then shoved the fork back in and stared at it.

  “Something wrong?” Silver asked.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “I meant the potato salad. Is it bad?”

  Eli shook the hair off his face. “It’s fine too.”

  “Okay.” Everything was fine. Except that it wasn’t.

  “I really don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to.”

  “Okay,” Silver said again as he started mentally packing. Maybe he could store the GED workbooks here until he found a place. The room on Tyson Street was gone, since it had only been paid through Friday. He had a little money now, but not having ID to use was the big problem.

  Eli spoke so fast the words ran together. “Does it freak you out when you hear Quinn spank me?”

  “Huh?” Silver blinked.

  Eli waved his hand. “Is hearing the spanking a trigger thing? Because of your coerced consent.”

  Silver had been so sure this was a don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out speech that it took him a few seconds to backtrack through what Eli was saying. Coerced consent and triggers? That had Nate written all over it.

  “Jesus, Eli, did you have to tell Nate?”

  “It’s not a secret. The vids.”

  “No, but why didn’t you ask me instead of dragging his pretentious ass into it?”

  Eli hid under his bangs. “It kind of came up. We were doing a shoot downtown, and Nate was bitching about how the cops are using carrying a condom as grounds for a prostitution charge for any woman. And I’ve been worried that hearing us was maybe reminding you of—”

  “Enough.” Christ, Silver was glad Eli had gotten over his crush on Nate. It had killed him to try to pay attention to interpreting everything Nate said or did. But he really didn’t need Nate thinking he was some poor exploited piece of ass.

  “Listen to this, and you can tell Nate the exact same thing. I consented. To all of it. No one made me. No one came after me. I answered the ads and I knew what the deal was and I signed off on forms.”

  “Illegally.”

  “It doesn’t fucking matter. I knew what I was doing. I could have stayed at the shelter
with you.”

  “But your parents?”

  “They probably never even looked for me. So it’s fine, Eli. You guys can fuck however you want, your Daddy can beat your ass purple every night if that’s what gets you off, but would you please talk to me next time before getting your sainted ex-whatever involved?”

  Eli laughed.

  Silver was so not in the mood. “What?”

  “You realize that’s what you called your ex? Saint Zebadiah? No wonder Nate gets on your nerves.”

  Yeah, it was a laugh riot. Except Nate saw what was wrong in the world and used that to look down on everyone. Zeb wanted to fix it. As long as when what was wrong wasn’t underage and at his door in the middle of the night.

  “Hey, I forgot.” Now that all was spanky-free in his world, Eli was back to himself. “How did your lesson go yesterday?”

  “It was fucking peachy. Now I gotta go study.”

  SILVER DIDN’T do anything the next few days but go to work and drag himself through that lame science book. Living in Mount Washington with Quinn and Eli was easy on the budget. Sometimes he didn’t have to take the bus, though he could have done without the ride in Jamie’s cop car when he worked late that one night. If he didn’t end up in jail, he’d have enough money for a place that wanted a security deposit. Gavin’s lawyer was working on how he was going to get ID in his real name.

  Since the lawyer had told him the easiest way was to ask his parents for his birth certificate, Silver didn’t like thinking about that too much. He’d thought about saying no, that he didn’t have any idea where they were, but he also really didn’t want to go to jail. Bile burned his throat as he spat out the names, address, and numbers, including old Thomas’s office number.