Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits

by Brandon Witt

  “I think I need to sit down,” Ridley said dejectedly. He’d hoped to impress Alex, but he couldn’t even stand up on his own, his legs felt like rubber, and if he didn’t sit down soon and get his head down between his legs, he was going to upchuck all over Alex’s house.

  He heard the keys clink against a hard surface and then Alex’s arm was around him. “I got ya,” he murmured against Ridley’s ear.

  Ridley flailed a little when Alex pushed him down onto a soft cushion. Saliva pooled in his mouth and he swallowed several times as he fought to keep his gut from spewing. He put his head between his knees and took slow, even breaths, praying he didn’t puke. It was close, but with Alex rubbing his back soothingly and a bit of stubbornness on his own part, the nausea eased.

  “That was close,” he admitted.

  “Here, lie back,” Alex said gently as he helped Ridley get stretched out on the couch. Ridley winced as pain lanced through his head when it came in contact with the arm of the couch and quickly turned to the side. “Be right back, I’m going to get you some ice for your head.”

  “Thanks,” Ridley mumbled, closed his eyes, and burrowed under the blanket Alex laid over him. Ridley was trembling with the exertion it had taken to get from the car to the house. He really was hurt worse than he wanted to acknowledge, but for the first time he had to finally admit defeat.

  “Ridley,” Alex said gently.

  Ridley tried to respond, to swim to the surface of the stupor he seemed to be in. But he was so warm, so comfortable, and not even Alex’s voice could entice Ridley to leave it.

  “Come on, you got to wake up.”

  “I don’t want to,” Ridley huffed and pulled the covers over his head.

  “You have to, doctor’s orders,” Alex encouraged. “Besides, your breakfast is getting cold.”

  At first he thought of ignoring Alex. He was perfectly happy and content and knew that as soon as he sat up the nausea and dizziness would return. He was beyond tired of dealing with that shit and would be fine to sleep for the next week until the swelling in his fucked-up head went down. Apparently, Alex had other ideas.

  “Let’s go,” he said with a little more force to his tone and pulled the covers off.

  “Stop being mean to me,” Ridley grumbled and swatted weakly at him. “I have a broken head. For the love of God, take pity on me.”

  “Pity is for pansies. Now open them eyes and let me see those peepers.” Alex patted Ridley’s face softly. “C’mon, let me see them.”

  He grunted in irritation but did as Alex instructed and then whimpered pathetically when the light stung his eyes. He closed them again. “Just leave me alone in my misery, okay?”

  “No can do. But if you don’t get up and eat this yummy omelet, hash browns, and toast I slaved away to make you, I’m going to make some plain ol’ boring oatmeal and force-feed it to you.”

  Ridley’s stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since the night before. The idea of oatmeal being forced down his throat made him open his eyes. He hated oatmeal, thought the texture was gross. “Damn, you’re worse than Nurse Old Fart,” he groaned.

  “Yeah well, I bet she can’t cook like me. Now suck it up, buttercup, and sit up.”

  Ridley rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and then across his burning eyes.

  “C’mon!”

  “Shut up,” Ridley huffed. “Give me a minute.”

  Alex didn’t comment on the crass words, nor did he take pity and give him the desired minute. Instead, he grabbed Ridley’s arm and tugged.

  “Fuck,” Ridley groaned as he was pulled to a sitting position.

  “That comes after you get better, but first, food,” Alex said and shoved a heaping plate at Ridley. “Start with this. I’ll go get your juice and coffee.”

  Ridley was about to protest on general principle about the rough treatment, but the delicious scents wafting up had him clamping down on the complaint and grabbing the fork.

  “Good boy,” Alex chuckled and headed to the kitchen.

  “I’ll show you good boy,” Ridley said around a large bite of omelet. Right after he got his legs back. However, he wasn’t worried about showing off at the moment, he was starved. He shoveled in another large bite and hummed happily as he chewed.

  “You might not want to eat so fast,” Alex commented, coming back into the room and handing Ridley a glass of orange juice.

  “Thanks,” he grunted and downed half the juice.

  “Okay, you stubborn shit, ignore my warning, but when you end up going Exorcist on me, you get to clean up the projectile vomit,” Alex said.

  “Oh!” Ridley answered and set the glass on the side table. “Eww, yeah, I’m really not up to cleaning up puke.”

  Alex set a steaming cup of coffee next to the juice, then took a seat next to Ridley. “Mmmhmm, I thought you’d see it my way.”

  “This is really good,” he praised and took another bite, smaller this time, and chewed slowly, savoring it.

  “Thanks. How are you feeling?”

  “The room’s not spinning and I don’t feel as if I’m about to puke, so I’d say that is a hell of an improvement from earlier. Head still hurts, but not too bad.”

  “There was a script for some pain pills attached to your discharge instructions. If you feel up to it after you eat, we can run to the pharmacy. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  “Nah. I mean I’m up to it, but I don’t want them. This is the first time since last night I don’t feel as if I’m on a tilt-a-whirl. A couple Tylenol will work if you got ’em.”

  “Sure, be right back.”

  Ridley took a few more bites, then set his plate aside and picked up his coffee. He was completely and unapologetically addicted to coffee, and the first sip of the warm brew made him moan. He was sure the headache was from more than just a crack on the head. He was going through caffeine withdrawal. He took another big gulp.

  Alex came back into the room with his own mug of coffee and sat back down next to Ridley. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he said and held out the pills.

  “Blow job,” Ridley responded and swallowed the medicine.

  “What?” Alex looked at him with a confused expression.

  “You said ask and ye shall receive,” Ridley reminded him and waggled his brows seductively.

  Alex laughed and shook his head.

  “Totally for medicinal purposes, I assure you. Haven’t you heard the best thing for a headache is an orgasm?”

  “I’ve heard that,” Alex chuckled into his mug. “You be a good boy and follow your discharge instructions, and we’ll test the theory for accuracy later.”

  “Why wait?” Ridley asked with a tilt of his head. “No time like the present, I always say.”

  “Because the doctor said no exertion and to stay calm. Trust me, my blow jobs do anything but create a calming effect,” Alex said confidently.

  “I hate him,” Ridley grumbled.

  “Poor baby,” Alex placated. “How about I make it up to you by giving you a bath?”

  “Mmm,” Ridley said, perking up. “Then can I have the blow job?” Screw doctor’s orders, his dick was hardening and he was getting all tingly.

  “We’ll see,” Alex said smugly as he collected the dirty dishes. “You sit back and let your food digest and I’ll get the water running.”

  Ridley only had a small stand-up shower at his place and hadn’t gotten to soak in a hot bath in forever. With or without the blow job, he was looking forward to it, although a little lip-to-dick would definitely make it all the more pleasurable.

  Ridley stretched out and for the first time was able to take in Alex’s home. He suddenly realized why he hadn’t picked up anything while having breakfast. There was nothing there, nothing to see. Sure, there was a couch and a couple of end tables, but that was it. No TV, no design elements or personal effects. The walls were stark white, no personality anywhere to be found. He’d learned quickly Alex didn’t like to share personal in
formation, but this place just didn’t fit what he knew of the man. Ridley thought that at the very least there would have been a bookshelf full of books, a book bag, something, but it was as sterile as the hospital room he’d just left.

  “Tub’s drawn,” Alex called from the other room. “You need some help?”

  “Nah, I’m good,” Ridley assured him.

  He shifted on the couch, putting his feet on the floor. The movement caused his head to throb, but the room wasn’t going all wonky, which made him ridiculously happy. Sure he’d be fine but still cautious, Ridley slowly stood and his confidence plummeted right along with his churning gut as the pain in his head intensified and the room began to spin.

  “Whoa,” he groaned and grabbed his head in both hands as he fell back onto the couch.

  A rumbling sound had him lolling his head to the side, and after a few seconds his vision focused on Alex who was leaning against the doorway chuckling. “I thought as much.”

  “Then why in the hell did you ask?” Ridley complained.

  “Because you think you’re a badass motherfucker and who am I to argue with you?”

  “I am a badass motherfucker,” he grumped. “But I have a very serious head injury so that title is temporarily on hold.” Ridley tried to sound cool and gruff, but it came out as more of a whimper and a moan.

  Alex obviously caught his feeble attempt as well because he was still laughing when he headed over to help Ridley to his feet.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just stay here, wallow in my own filth, and sleep,” Ridley mumbled, laid his head back, and closed my eyes.

  Alex grabbed Ridley’s hand and tugged. “Nope, you have to stay awake for at least another hour so you might as well get clean.”

  He shoved at Alex’s grip, refusing to budge or open his eyes. “Stop being mean to me. I’m an injured man. You can’t treat the infirm this way. It’s heartless.”

  “Doctor’s orders,” Alex said, still tugging on him.

  “I won’t tell him if you won’t.” He found enough reserved strength to pull his hand free from Alex’s.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Alex growled and grabbed onto Ridley’s forearm before he could snuggle down into the couch. “Up and at ’em.”

  Ridley grudgingly let Alex pull him to his feet and clung to the man when his knees began to buckle. “How about you just drop me off at home and let me die alone,” he groaned pathetically.

  “You’re not going to die and I’m not taking you home until you can at least walk on your own.”

  “I don’t need to walk. I just need to get horizontal and stay that way,” Ridley countered but it was a weak attempt. He was too busy focusing on not landing on his ass and trying to ignore the little flashes of light zinging around his vision.

  Once in the bathroom, Alex helped Ridley with his clothes and then held onto him while Ridley eased down into the warm bathwater. He sighed as he was submerged in the warm, sudsy water. Ridley would have thought he’d be hard and ready after being undressed by his wet dream, especially when Alex grabbed a washcloth and started washing Ridley’s chest. However, his injuries were a more immediate concern, and he leaned back against the tub, closed his eyes, and let the heat and calm ease his throbbing head.

  Ridley lay there with the scents of sandalwood and heather filling his nostrils and the silkiness of the soap soft against this flesh. It felt amazing to be pampered, but still…. “Why are you doing this for me?” he asked because he really wanted to know.

  “Because you’re hurt and need help,” Alex said, sounding matter-of-fact.

  Ridley opened his eyes and stared at him. “That’s nice of you, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me again?”

  “Why would you think that?” Alex questioned without meeting his gaze.

  “Well, let’s see, there is the little matter of you being gone when I woke up, no note, nothing. Then the fact that you weren’t at work the week after we spent the night together.” He ticked each one off on his fingers. “And not to mention you haven’t returned my texts or calls. Hmm, I don’t know why I would think you didn’t want to see me again.”

  Alex dropped the washcloth in the tub, grabbed a hand towel, and sat on the commode while he dried his hands. He still hadn’t looked at Ridley so it was hard to read his expression.

  After a long-drawn-out moment, Alex finally sighed heavily. “I didn’t plan on seeing you again.”

  Even though Ridley already suspected it, hearing it, having it confirmed hurt—like stick a knife in his gut and twist kind of pain. Fortunately, in his pitiful state, he didn’t think Alex noticed his disappointment. Rejection sucked, but it had never bothered him as much as it did coming from Alex.

  “So again I ask, why are you taking care of me now?”

  “Because I feel a bit responsible for what happened.”

  “I’m the one who jumped in without calculating all the risks. You’re not responsible nor is there anything for you to feel guilty about,” Ridley assured him. “I’m sure I can get Rae to stay with me. You don’t have to take care of me and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Look, Ridley, it’s nothing personal. I like you and we had fun, but I’m not sure I’m the….” He shrugged. “I’m not really boyfriend material.”

  “Boyfriend?” Ridley nearly choked on his surprise and coughed to cover it up. Hell yeah, Alex intrigued him more than any guy he’d ever hooked up with and he could easily admit he found himself thinking about Alex a lot. But boyfriend? “I’m just looking for someone to hang out with, have a beer, shoot a game of pool, and enjoy some hot, kinky sex. I’m a college student, for Christ sake, not looking to get fucking married.” He arched a brow at Alex. “If you haven’t noticed, the pond of hot gay men in this town isn’t actually a pond, more like a puddle.”

  Alex tilted his head and met Ridley’s gaze. His lip curled into a sly grin. “Hot, kinky sex, huh?”

  The seductive lilt of Alex’s voice and the glint of mischief in his eyes caused Ridley to get all tingly again. “The kinkier the better.”

  “Then you better work on healing that broken head of yours,” Alex drawled with a wink, dropped the towel on the floor, and walked out the door.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Ridley called after him. “My other head is in perfect working condition.” He looked down to where his hardening dick was straining upward, the head in question peeking up out of the water. “Come back here!”

  Alex’s response was a deep rumbling chuckle. Bastard. He wasn’t all that upset when Alex didn’t come back; after all, Alex was merely forcing Ridley to follow doctor’s orders. He was relieved they’d gotten the little issue of boyfriend and expectations out of the way. Maybe now they could actually start hanging out and having some fun. Plus, the tub was relaxing as hell and his throbbing head had quieted. And seeing as he had a whole bottle of body wash and a more-than-capable hand…. “What the hell,” he murmured and wrapped a fist around his cock and stroked it. From the look Alex had given him, he was sure there would be plenty of time to explore the kinky later. For now he’d start thinking of all the things he wanted to explore with the sexy fucker.

  Ridley sank farther down in the tub and stroked himself again.

  OTHER THAN keeping up on his studies, Ridley did nothing strenuous as per doctor’s orders—surprisingly—for the next week. He rarely did what he was told; rather, he tended to do what he wanted, when he wanted. But he quickly discovered that a cracked head was some seriously scary shit. He’d always thought concussions were an excuse athletes used to take the night off. Now he knew better. The headaches and dizziness subsided within a couple of days, but holy hell he just didn’t feel right all week. He was withdrawn, confused, had a hard time remembering, concentrating, and was tired, like really fricking tired, even after a full night of sound sleep. He had a new respect for those athletes because it for real sucked.

  The one good thing during the week of infirmity was the texts he got from Alex first t
hing each morning and last thing each evening. They were generally not much more than Good morning or Good night, but they never failed to make Ridley smile. Actually, it wasn’t the only good thing. Rae—while irritatingly motherly—was pretty awesome and the main reason he was up and about and heading to the library to see Alex.

  He’d promised Rae he’d call his parents, tell them about the injury before they started getting the statements from the insurance company, but first he needed to get the hell out of his stuffy apartment, clear his mind. The conversation with Mom so wasn’t going to go well. But he’d worry about that later. The cool spring breeze and early-morning sun felt good on his face. He pulled on his shades and hummed as he made his way across campus. He could have easily done his studies from home, but he was going batshit stir-crazy, the walls of his place closing in on him. Besides, he really wanted to see a sexy library assistant even more than he wanted to ace his exam. And damn sure more than he wanted to hear the guilt trip his mom was going to put on him. He had messed-up priorities, sure, but he was smitten or horny or both. Whatever, he was all zipped up to see Alex.

  He rounded the corner and nearly slammed into Kyle Bouche. His normally handsome face was swollen, below both eyes was an ugly mix of red, purple and yellow, and he had tape across his nose.

  “Whoa there,” Ridley grunted and grabbed onto Kyle’s jacket before they both ended up on their asses.

  Kyle’s eyes went wide, a horrified expression on his face. He spun, ripping his jacket from Ridley’s grasp, and took off hobbling and limping in the direction he’d just come from.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  Ridley knew he was tough, had a bit of a badass vibe going on with the piercings, tats, and epic clothing choices, but he didn’t have a rep for being scary. He was more the quiet kind of badass with a “don’t fuck with me, I won’t fuck with you” attitude. And he wasn’t the one who had done that to Kyle’s face. Seeing Kyle looking so scared, probably pissing himself as he half ran, half limped, was unsettling. What all had happened that night? The whole thing was just… weird.