Bad Company

by K.A. Mitchell

  The kiss went from a calculated display of passion to wet and sloppy, Nate chasing Kellan’s darting tongue into the spicy-slick warmth of his mouth. The hunger became openmouthed desperation, a need that wouldn’t back down. Kellan held on, hand in Nate’s hair, one on his back, and oh Christ, Kellan’s dick was hot and full against Nate’s thigh.

  That was it. Nate could steer Kellan right through the back door, slam him up against a dumpster, and fuck against his dick until they both were raw and wet and limp, and still he wouldn’t let go of Kellan’s mouth. It had nothing to do with the fuzzy teenage dream of Kellan loving him back, of them having a house somewhere, of them holding each other all night. It was this man, now, the hardness and the taste of him better than anything a thirteen-year-old could imagine. And worse than any torment his thirteen-year-old self had suffered. Because that had been a fantasy. The want howling and tearing at him now was all too real and even less likely to be satisfied.

  Kellan groaned, and whether that was part of the show or not, it made Nate harder than he’d ever been, dizzy with the loss of blood in his brain, which would explain why he kept right on kissing Kellan’s mouth, rubbing his dick into Kellan’s hip, fingers numbing from their clasp on Kellan’s neck.

  The only thing that spared Nate the abject humiliation of coming in his pants in front of a bunch of people was Jess, his feature writer, yelling, “Hey, Gray. There’s something called a deadline that we lowly writers have to pay attention to so you dickheaded editors don’t fire us.”

  Jess. The article. Right. The guy he was slowly peeling away from wasn’t his boyfriend, his lover, some wet dream come to life. It was Kellan. And Nate had fallen for another one of his schemes. None of this was real.

  “Wow,” the blonde girl with the phone said. “He really is gay.”

  “I second the wow,” Terrell added, “but I already knew that.”

  Nate turned to Jess. “Okay. Let’s get started.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” Kellan purred, rubbing his thumb over Nate’s lips. “I missed you too.”

  Nate would have sworn that a man couldn’t purr without sounding like a vampy caricature, but the deep rumble buzzed low in his ears, exactly like Yin’s when she was settling onto his lap for a few hours of petting.

  Being torn between smacking Kellan’s hand away and sucking that thumb into his mouth kept Nate from doing either.

  “So. Is there a place we can do this interview?” Jess said.

  Yolanda came out of the back. “You know we close in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll lock up,” the blonde girl offered.

  “I’ll help,” Terrell said, those two words carrying a load of innuendo. Nate always liked it when Terrell waited on him. He could turn an office run for coffee, bagels, and cream cheese into lascivious pillow talk.

  Nate took another step back from Kellan. “Here. I had an extra key made. I should probably head back over to the office.”

  “Sit down, Gray. You’re both in the story.” Jess pointed at a chair.

  Nate hitched himself up on the window ledge next to the table. Kellan flipped a chair around and straddled it, flashing a grin so broad it carved deep dimples in his cheeks. The sight strained the leash Nate had put on the need to slam Kellan up against the nearest wall, until he realized the twinkle in those green eyes was for Jess. But the thick length outlined between denim-clad legs, who was that for?

  “Why don’t you start with when you first decided to come out?” Jess turned on a recorder and opened her laptop.

  Nate was glad he hadn’t had time to eat lunch, because he’d have lost it as he listened to Kellan spin a story of how they’d always been close friends, but that his dad had been suspicious and tried to keep them apart. Kellan had wanted to live up to expectations but had kept missing Nate. Now nothing would come between them. They were a not-quite-as-tragic Romeo and Juliet.

  Jess deftly spun the questions back to Kellan’s history of engagements, about his trail of broken hearts. Kellan summoned the appropriate look of shame so easily, Nate wondered why he hadn’t stayed in acting.

  “I was terrible to them. I think it was an internalized homophobia, you know? Like fear of what everyone would say. I tried to tell myself that if I could make the engagements work, I’d make everyone happier.”

  Kellan must have spent last night reading the books in Nate’s apartment to come up with that “internalized homophobia” line. It was dangerous to leave him alone.

  “Well, what about other men? Have you been in relationships with other men?”

  “No. I—” Kellan’s gaze lowered, blush dark on his cheeks. He must have been able to fake that too. “It’s really always been Nate.”

  “But you do find men attractive, right? You say you’re gay.”

  Kellan looked at Nate like he was supposed to throw out a lifeline. Nate only gave him a smile. This was Kellan’s fairy tale.

  “It’s kind of awkward with my boyfriend right here,” Kellan said at last, gaze shifting away from Nate.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Jess was actually falling for it. Jess, who used to do most of their movie reviews, who sneered through all the emotional moments of even the most heart-tugging children’s movies, was buying every lie from Kellan’s lips in the name of romance.

  “To me it’s always been more about love than labels,” Kellan said.

  “So you still aren’t comfortable with saying you’re gay?”

  “It’s not like that. I’m in love with another man. If that makes me gay, I’m proud to say so. Proud to be with Nate.”

  It was fucking genius. If Kellan had said he was gay, that he’d turned overnight, no one would have believed him. But this, it was like he was reading off some script. He could have been a screenwriter too. Hell, from the way he’d gotten Nate to go along with him, Kellan could have been the old triple threat: starring, written, and directed by.

  “So what do you think about it, Nate?”

  They were screwed now. Kellan had been right. Nate wasn’t cut out for lying. Never saw a need to develop that skill. Kellan laughed a little, like he was nervous, but then he blew Nate a kiss.

  Nate opened his mouth and surprised himself with the absolute truth. “It’s killed me to see Kellan wasting his life all these years. I only want him to be happy.”

  Jess rolled her eyes and sighed. “Really? That’s pathetic, Gray.”

  “What?” Nate drew himself up straighter and stopped swinging his legs. Jess bought all of Kellan’s shit, but him she was going to question? Her boss?

  “Could you at least give me a usable—and by that I mean something someone could read without gagging—quote for this print blowjob you’re making me write?”

  Kellan rolled his lips in, fighting a laugh. Eli lowered his camera to reveal his smirk.

  Nate sputtered. “Eli said you thought it would be a nice piece.”

  “Right, because it would be a great career move to turn down a suggestion from your boss.” Jess stuck a pen between her teeth and tapped away on her keyboard.

  “You’re right. It wasn’t a good idea to take advantage of the paper like this. We’ll check with one of the other weeklies—”

  “Forget about it. At least we’ll still be the only paper in the city that isn’t swooning over the Orioles winning ten in a row. Let’s try something else. What do you have to say about the reaction of Geoffrey Brooks to his son’s latest love interest?”

  “I’ll give you a quote on that.” Nate swung off the sill. “Geoffrey Brooks can expect—”

  Kellan reached up and grabbed Nate’s arm, standing so they were holding hands. “My dad can go fuck himself.”

  NATE FINALLY mastered the art of rationalization as he shepherded the article on Kellan’s coming out through edits and layout to print. In fact, every comma in that week’s edition received his personal attention as he stayed in the office as late as possible to avoid going back to his apartment—to Kellan. But then again, if Nate kn
ew he was rationalizing his avoidance, did it still count as a rationalization? He would have asked Martin, the senior editor, if Martin hadn’t left two hours ago at midnight.

  The quiet office didn’t give his brain much else to chew on but the events of the day, one in particular. There hadn’t been any coercion in that kiss. Nothing to guilt about with Kellan’s active—Jesus, firmly committed—participation. No. This time it was all about what Nate couldn’t have. So maybe Kellan was curious. Some otherwise straight guys were. Maybe he’d be interested in a guy blowing him or fucking another guy, but it would be just another one of Kellan’s stunts. And Nate couldn’t be that guy. There was no way Nate could stand being nothing more than Kellan’s trial run on the bendy track.

  Nate sure as hell couldn’t handle that when he got so stupidly worked up over a kiss. He wasn’t fifteen anymore, but that hadn’t stopped the uprising in his pants every time he thought about Kellan hard against him, mouth open, throat vibrating with a moan. And now Nate had another reason to stay here until long past everyone else shutting down and heading home. At least here he could jerk off in the bathroom in peace—rather than have to do it at home with Kellan in the apartment. Flushing his pipes should at least make him able to stand being in the same room with Kellan. Now he had to figure out how to sleep next to him.

  BROAD CHEST stretching out another of Nate’s T-shirts, Kellan lay sprawled across most of the bed when Nate finally made it through the door at two thirty. Tomorrow Nate could sleep in, unless there was an emergency with the printing and distribution. After he got out of the bathroom, he surveyed the landscape by the light from the streetlight on the corner and executed an acrobatic arch around Yin to find a spot on the mattress.

  As soon as Nate got the sheet over him and his pillow precisely the way he wanted it, Kellan flopped an arm over Nate’s hips.

  “Shove over, Kell.” The déjà vu from those three words made Nate smile until an equally strong frisson of agony had him bolt up, feet on the floor. Because this wasn’t one of those hundred times they’d been tucked together in Nate’s bed as kids, when a shove from a hand or a hip meant nothing more than friendship. Now he was surrounded by the smell of Kellan’s skin, the sound of his breath, drowning in the need to roll on top of Kellan and put way more into him than his tongue.

  “What’s wrong? Drunk again?” Kellan’s voice sounded deeper than usual in the dark.

  “I’m fine. Just thought of something about the paper.”

  Nate heard Kellan drop hard onto his back.

  “Yeah, the paper.” Kellan’s laugh was more breath than sound. “At least you haven’t cut yourself off from ever getting laid again. While every guy you were ever friends with is wondering if you take it up the ass.”

  “Christ, Kellan, then why the fuck did you do this?” Nate spun around to face him, moving so abruptly Yin took off to find a quieter spot. She paused by the kitchen island to level an evil, glowing glare in his direction.

  Kellan sat up and dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess it seemed like a good idea. I mean, I still think it’s a good idea, but it feels weird.”

  Nate turned back to face the window. “Yeah. Weird. I get that.” A Kellan a lot hotter than anything Nate remembered, who he got to sleep next to and kiss but not really touch, was about as weird as it got.

  Kellan laughed, an audible chuckle this time. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so weird if I actually was doing what everyone’s going to think I’m doing.”

  “What are you saying? You want to be doing it?” Nate turned on the bed so he could watch Kellan’s face in the light from the street. Was Kellan trying to ask Nate for it?

  Kellan shrugged.

  Nate launched himself on top of Kellan, pinning him on his back with hands on his shoulders, and leaned close to his ear. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want my dick in your ass, Kellan?”

  Kellan’s lips curled in before he spoke. “I didn’t say that.” But Kellan didn’t try to shove Nate off.

  Broad shoulders flinched under Nate’s hands.

  Nate wanted to scream in frustration. This was another one of Kellan’s games, to get Nate to go far enough that Kellan could laugh it off as a joke and make Nate the aggressor who took things too seriously.

  “I might be doing this for my own reasons, but I’m not that much of a whore.” Nate sat up, still straddling Kellan’s hips, and lunged across to the end-table drawer. Tossing the lube and the dildo on Kellan’s chest, Nate said, “Try it out and let me know what you think. Practice sucking it too. I’m not into virgins.”

  He swung off Kellan and stood up.

  Kellan rolled onto his side facing Nate, picked up the dildo, and tossed it at his feet. “Now I know why you’ve got one of those. You’re such a self-righteous prick, you’re the only one good enough to fuck you.”

  Nate gaped at him, hands curling into fists. He’d never wanted to punch someone before in his life.

  “That’s right,” Kellan went on. “You may not be whore enough to fuck me, but you’re whore enough to fake a big gay love for revenge. Get off your high horse, Nathan. This is so much more about my dad than saving the city from some evil corporation.”

  “Do you know what it did to my dad? Did you hear what happened when old Geoffrey went public with the energy-drink formula he stole from my dad? KZ Cola threatened to put him in jail for industrial espionage and theft. We lost our house. Everything.”

  Kellan’s face, pale against the shadows, grew dark as he flushed. “I didn’t know all that.”

  “No. You were too busy at your new school, in your new mansion, to worry about that. Not that you even gave a shit about me then.”

  “I could try to fucking apologize again, but I don’t know what the hell would be good enough for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t born perfect. I’m sorry your life sucked. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to be there, Kellan.” It was Nate’s turn to shove the scar on his forearm under Kellan’s nose. Nate kept his voice low and tight so it wouldn’t break with the still-raw memory of that betrayal. “I never let you down. What happened to you?”

  Nate was learning to read this older Kellan. The lip biting Kellan had done when he was anxious had become a quick pull in between his teeth, then pushing it out to make his bottom lip fuller.

  This time, though, Kellan bit his lower lip so hard, Nate thought there’d be blood. “I turned into a dick. Does that make you happy?”

  “No.”

  Kellan glanced over at the clock on the table. “Shit. I’m supposed to be back at the café at six thirty.” He ran a hand over his face. “Unless you’re going to toss my ass on the street.”

  “No. I promised you could stay.”

  “Right. Noble Nate.” Kellan stood up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Newsflash: we ordinary people have to take a piss every once in a while.”

  If Nate climbed into bed now, maybe he could fall asleep before Kellan got out of the bathroom. One of the things about knowing someone for a long time was that you could always save the argument for later. That was, until you ran out of laters.

  Chapter Eleven

  KELLAN HEADED off on his twenty-block walk to Manna Café with time to spare, relatively clean and dressed. Yesterday he’d taken advantage of the key Nate had handed him to let himself into the apartment and wash out his socks, shorts, and shirt in the tub. His jeans were pretty bad and getting riper. He needed to find another pair or a place to wash them. There was no way he could fit into a pair of Nate’s, and yesterday Yolanda had made the no-sweatpants-or-pajama-pants-at-work rule clear enough.

  But not stinking up the place wasn’t Kellan’s only problem. Not even his biggest one. No, that went to figuring out why he’d been pretty close to having sex with Nate last night.

  Was what he’d almost talked himself into some kind of flukey short in his wiring, or could he really play for either team?

  If
he took That Summer out of the equation, Kellan had been pretty happy scoring with girls. He liked their tits, their mouths, their softness, and he liked fucking them. When it came to the actual bumping-uglies part, he still wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who got off just staring at a pussy, but once he had his tongue or finger or dick in one, he liked them a lot. Things took over and it was good. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t get hard from nothing but staring at a dick either, so would things take over if he was with a guy? If he was with Nate?

  And when he put That Summer back into the mix, his stomach got a lot more squirrelly and his nuts more shrivelly at the theory that maybe he could go there with any guy. But Nate wasn’t any guy. And there was no shriveling and only the good kind of squirrelliness when he thought about Nate kissing him, Nate’s body on top of his, Nate’s hands holding Kellan’s hips as—as what? That was about as far as he could go before his mind backed off like it was looking over the edge of a sheer cliff.

  He cut through two alleys and over a fence to avoid going around the block to arrive at the café’s back door by quarter after six. It was the first time he’d ever been early for anything in his life, but before he could take a deep breath of the rich morning smells from fresh roasting coffee beans, Brandi yanked him through the back door.

  “Holy crap.” Brandi tugged him through the kitchen. “Yolanda’s having kittens. Terrell isn’t on until ten, and there’s already a line.” She pointed.

  Kellan peered through the dark of the café to the glassed front, where about ten girls were waiting, all of them looking at least one year under legal. Maybe there was a school close by.