Stories Beneath Our Skin

by Veronica Sloane

  "You're helping." Goose's eyes narrowed. "You're actually helping. Why?"

  "Because you're really goddamn annoying when you're all lovesick. Better to get it over with, one way or another." She glanced at Liam. "Besides, I've got to live vicariously through someone."

  "You guys having a sleepover?" A tall redheaded woman slipped out from behind the curtain, her arm swathed in Ace's neat bandaging.

  "Thinking about it." Deb cracked a yawn. "How'd it come out?"

  "Brilliant, thanks. I'll be back again next week to get the color. Don't know my work schedule yet. I'll call."

  "Sounds good." Deb smiled brightly. "Talk to you soon."

  When the door closed behind her, Deb sagged further against the back of the couch.

  "Don't you people go home?" Ace came through a few minutes later, laughing at the curled up mess of bodies on the couch and Liam half-asleep on the chair.

  "Comfy." Goose protested as Deb shifted beneath him.

  "You'll give yourself a stiff neck if you sleep there again." Ace ruffled Goose's curls, dislodging a stray paper ball. "Time to go home."

  "Frankie wants to date him at work," Deb reported through an uneven yawn. "Like have him show up so they can hang out, but also make him mix drinks or whatever. I think it's brilliant. Cheap labor for her."

  "Uh-huh." Ace raised an eyebrow. "You gonna do it?"

  "I dunno, man. Maybe. Way she talked about it, it sort of made sense. Then I walked away and thought about it, and it just seems messy. I mean, I'm crazy about her, but she's lukewarm on me at best. I keep running after, but she never gets any goddamn closer. So maybe it's time I backed off."

  "Seems like she's getting closer now," Ace pointed out. "I'll even give you Tuesday nights off. You never make any money on Tuesdays."

  "Now you're all just ganging up on me."

  "Not me," Liam protested.

  "You're doing it in your head. Don't think I can't see your judgmental eyes."

  "You're not even looking at me!"

  "Am too!"

  "Okay, children." Deb got to her feet, and Goose tumbled to the floor. "Time for all God's creatures to go sleep in their own beds."

  "S'what I was trying to say." Ace laughed, offering Goose a hand up. "You good?"

  "Peachy."

  They stumbled out in the misting rain which had been falling all day. Ace turned his face up to it, tongue out.

  "Gross." Deb laughed pushing at him. "Who knows where that's been?"

  "Don't care. Feels good. I gotta call the AC guys to come look at the damn thing again."

  "You're just having hot flashes." Deb rolled her eyes. "Nothing wrong with the unit."

  "I think I'd notice if I got menopausal," Ace drawled.

  They were still at it when Liam got into his car. He glanced into the rearview mirror, waiting for Goose to back out and caught something. He stared into the mirror and reached up. He touched the edges of a smile. Not the small thing he'd been wearing for the last few weeks, but a huge, goofy, honest-to-God grin.

  The lights were on in the living room when he got home; the teenager Ace had hired to babysit was watching television with her feet tucked beneath her on the couch.

  "Everything okay?" Liam asked.

  "Sure. He didn't wake up the whole time I was here." She turned off the television. "Do you want me to stay until Mr. Reece gets back?"

  It took him a minute to puzzle through who she meant. Liam hadn't heard Ace's last name mentioned more than once or twice. He'd started to think of him as just having the one like Cher or Madonna or something far less embarrassingly stereotypical.

  "Oh. Um. No? Unless he needs to pay you."

  "No, I'm good." She toed on her sandals. "Have a good night!"

  "Good night."

  Liam went down the hallway, cracking Cole's door open. There was a lump underneath the dark blue blanket, and it rose and fell minutely as he watched. When Liam came to live with Gene for good, he'd often be woken in the middle of the night by Gene creaking open the door to check on him. The first few times it had made him nervous, kept him awake, but it soon became another sort of lullaby.

  "You okay?" Ace asked, and Liam had to bite back a yelp. "Jesus, sorry. Thought you heard me coming."

  "It's fine." Liam pressed a hand to his chest, the pound of his heart meeting his palm. "I got lost in thought."

  "I'd figure you spent so much time there you wouldn't need a map to get back."

  "Cute." Liam closed the door to Cole's room. "You going to go to bed?"

  "Not alone." Ace slid his hand around Liam's side, spreading it flat on the small of his back.

  "I'm not tired." Liam leaned in.

  "Think I can change that."

  They stumbled to Ace's bedroom, the door swinging shut softly behind them. It hadn't taken long for Liam to give up the fight not to have sex here. It didn't even look like Gene's room anymore, which helped substantially. Ace's things spread over every surface, his clothing spilling out of the drawers. The heavy curtains were permanently drawn back, Ace relishing the sun like a lizard on a rock in the mornings. The thick scent of Old Spice had been banished in favor of the pervasive peppermint (Ace's shampoo, as Liam finally discovered in the shower. He may have used some himself and been driven to distraction for the rest of the day) and cedar (an elegant, carved wooden box that divulged a jumbled handful of earrings and other piercing jewelry).

  Even the bed was different. Gene's practical linens had been banished in favor of sheets in a weird shade of green that felt like silk on Liam's bare skin. They landed on them in a jumble until Ace slid like a puzzle piece between Liam's thighs.

  "Your hair is getting long." Ace drew back from the kiss to run a hand through it.

  "I missed a cut or two." Liam lifted up his arms, making room for Ace to pull both their shirts off.

  "You should miss more. You'd look good with a ponytail. Add some tiny round glasses, and you'd be a dead ringer for Lennon."

  "There a Beatles fetish you want to tell me about? Because I can't sing worth a damn." Liam tickled his fingers down Ace's ribs, the hard reality of them shooting straight to Liam's dick.

  "Hilarious."

  They made out for a while, unhurried and dreamlike under the lamp light. Ace kissed like he had nothing but time. He brushed his lips against Liam's over and over until every nerve tingled in anticipation of more. Liam got drunk on it, head spinning pleasantly with the lack of oxygen.

  "You should fuck me," he murmured in the thick of it.

  "Should I?" Ace's laugh reverberated between them. "What if I want you to fuck me?"

  "I can do that." Liam traced the plunge of the sword on Ace's arm. "Whatever you want."

  "What do you want?" Ace poured the question right into Liam's mouth. "Wanna roll on your stomach for me?"

  "I like being on my back more." He wrapped one leg around Ace's waist, arching up in demonstration. "Get to see everything."

  "You're a hazard." Ace groaned. "It really always is the quiet ones."

  "The meek shall inherit the earth." Liam winked and began the arduous process of trying to get out of his jeans and briefs without breaking contact. Ace was no help at all, petting at every inch of bared skin until Liam forgot what he was trying to accomplish.

  "Your legs are a mile long." Ace dropped down to drag his tongue over Liam's left thigh. "Gonna look like a pit bull trying to mount a greyhound."

  "Good thing no one else is watching then." Liam tugged at one of Ace's dreadlocks, escaped from the leather thong. "You gonna spend the rest of the night down there?"

  "I might." Ace nipped at him, then stood to shuck off his own pants. The light picked up all the gold hair on his body. Liam wanted to run his hands over every shining inch of him, then let his mouth cover the territory again. He watched appreciatively as Ace bent over to look for the bottle of lube they'd tossed aside that morning.

  "There's condoms in my room," Liam offered.

  "I've got." Ace straightened
, triumphant with the bottle and three foil packets.

  "When did you buy those?"

  "The day after we slept together the first time." Ace looked sheepish. "Just seemed like the thing to do. When did you get yours?"

  "Dunno. Months ago, before I moved back. Hope springs eternal." He spread his legs, welcoming Ace back between them.

  "Were you thinking about anyone in particular?" Ace slotted back, bare skin electric against Liam's.

  "No. Didn't really think at all. Lot like right now."

  Ace grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, then slid a hand under Liam's ass to encourage him upwards. Liam had forgotten the awkwardness of sex, the reality of fumbling fingers and mess. When he'd been with Brandon, everything had a drug-fueled smoothness. He liked this better. Liked how Ace dug his fingers into Liam's hips and laughed when the lube got all over his hands. He liked the catch of a callous as Ace slid a finger into him.

  "Good?" Ace asked, voice honeyed and deep as he crooked that finger.

  "Yeah." Liam's eyes grew heavy lidded, and he arched up to encourage Ace on. "God, more. Please."

  The angle was wrong for kissing, so Ace mouthed a hickey on the curve of Liam’s shoulder, teeth worrying it into existence and tongue soothing away the sting. Pleasure sparked and caught, flaring under Liam's skin. He whimpered when Ace slid in a second finger, dug his hands into Ace's shoulders.

  "I've got you," Ace murmured.

  "I know." Liam tossed back his head and rode out the sensation.

  "Gonna go slow. You're too fucking tight." Ace said over Liam's broken protest when he drew his hand away. "I'll get you there. Promise."

  "Already there." Liam half-laughed, half-groaned. The crinkle of foil echoed in the room, weirdly loud. "Please..."

  "Don't gotta beg." Ace's right hand landed at Liam's side, and the first nudge of his cock at Liam's entrance brought another rattling plea to his throat. "Ready?"

  "Yeah," he took in a deep shuddering breath, "now."

  It hurt. He'd forgotten that it could, but it wasn't awful. He gripped Ace's forearms, kneading at the muscle. Whispered words of encouragement showered down around him, and eventually the burn receded into something like pleasure. When he opened his eyes, barely aware that he'd closed them in the first place, Ace was staring down at him. The blue of his eyes had gone dark and wild as the ocean, and his lips flushed an inviting red.

  "Oh." Liam swallowed hard.

  "Hey." Ace leaned in, managed one badly angled kiss in time with a thrust. "God, you feel amazing."

  "It's good," he slurred back, tilting up his hips another fraction of an inch. "Fuck..."

  Ace settled into a slow rhythm, a corkscrew that wound Liam tighter and tighter. He didn't touch himself, relishing the build that spiraled outward. He tried to hold to Ace's gaze, losing himself there, but when Ace's hand wrapped around Liam's cock, he gave in with a groan, eyes sliding shut again.

  "Come for me," Ace growled low, and Liam was helpless to resist. He came hard, head thrown back and hands clutching at whatever part of Ace he could reach.

  The sight spurred Ace on, his careful strokes turning ragged and arrhythmic, until he dropped his forehead to Liam's chest and shuddered to a stop. Liam ran a hand over the broad plane of Ace's shoulders.

  "I think I lost some IQ points," he commented when Ace relaxed entirely against him.

  "You and me both," Ace said into Liam's chest. "Goddamn. If it's like this now, how's it going to be when we actually know each other better?"

  The question prickled through the air, and Liam didn't know how to answer it. He wanted to imagine himself here with Ace in another few months. Another year. But he was too close to graduation to give up on Berkley now.

  "Stop that, whatever you're doing in that dense head of yours," Ace ordered. "I can feel you go tense all over, and I worked too hard to get you relaxed."

  "Was that work?" Liam teased, trying to throw off the onset of melancholy.

  "I broke a sweat, so it probably counts." Reluctantly, Ace heaved himself upward and collapsed at Liam's side. "Wanna take a shower?"

  "In a minute."

  "Lazy." Ace caught up Liam's hand, brushed a kiss over his knuckles. "You'll regret it if you fall asleep like that."

  "Ugh." Liam stretched, a twinging ache shooting up his spine.

  "I'll make it worth your while."

  Ace made good on his offer, soaping Liam down from his neck to the bottom of his feet even as Liam nearly kicked him in ticklish protest. It was weird and intimate and painfully good. Liam returned the favor, trying to tell Ace with a bar of soap and slippery fingers just how much it all meant to him.

  They settled between the soft sheets. For the first time, Liam didn't try to carve out his own space on the bed. He craved contact, curling his body around Ace. Ace grabbed for Liam's arm, dragging it over his chest. Liam kissed the back of Ace's neck just where the fine down of hair gave way to the knuckles of his spine.

  "Go to sleep," Ace ordered through a yawn.

  And Liam, for once, did.

  He dreamed of running through tall grass, his arms flung wide and the sky impossibly blue. When he woke, George was sitting on Ace's pillow staring him down.

  "Morning." He reached out, rubbed the soft fur between the Siamese's ears then slid off to brush his teeth.

  As he stared at himself in the mirror, the previous day's conversation washed back over him. Something in the tangled happy mess of it stuck out to him, and he kept trying to tug it loose. He worried at it over breakfast and through most of the morning. Even Gene tried to help early on, but fell asleep midway through their conversation. The concern of that seemingly unwilling descent in sleep added to the discomfort.

  "You're going to make me start fidgeting if you keep up like this." Ace told him mildly over lunch. They were at the diner, a pile of fries giving into their duel assault.

  "It's stupid, I know. I just feel like I missed something."

  "Something about Deb throwing spitballs at Goose?"

  "No." He reached for his glass, sucking down a sip of Coke. The sweetness burst over his tongue. Missing something. A cherry maybe like Frankie always put in his drinks. "Oh."

  "Figure it out?"

  "Yeah." He set down the glass slowly. "It was Goose talking about Frankie running away from him."

  "And I pointed out that she wasn't running anymore."

  "But she is. I mean, putting that professional layer between them. It reminded me of something. Of us."

  "You mean like the two times I pointed out it was a bad idea and we did it anyway?" Ace snorted. "Not exactly the same. They've been playing around for five years, not five minutes."

  "Maybe. What time does Frankie open the bar?" His suspicion was blooming now and maybe, like June and Alice with their stars and possessiveness all those weeks ago, he was wrong and/or it was none of his business. But just like June, he couldn't let it be.

  "Around four, I think. You can text her if you want to meet up with her earlier though. Bet she'd be happy with the help prepping the bar." Ace tapped Liam's hand gently. "Why?"

  "You said that Frankie's boyfriend left her, and she stopped hanging out with everyone after, right?"

  "Yeah. Andy or whatever. Why?"

  "Better not say. If I'm wrong, I'll look like an asshole. And if I'm right... well. She didn't want anyone to know."

  "Oh, fuck me." Ace slumped back in the booth. "Really? You think? I mean, I didn't like the guy, but if she was in trouble, she had to know we would've helped her."

  "If you knew. If she wanted you to know. Let me... I want to talk to her. Do you think she'll talk to me?" He bit his lip, meticulously destroying a fry in his hand. "Would I make it worse bringing up bad memories?"

  "I don't know." Ace caught up Liam's legs between his own under the table. "How'd you feel after you talked to me about it?"

  The fry turned to mush that clung unpleasantly to his fingertips.

  "Better. Worse. I can't explain i
t. It sucked and it was hard and I don't want you to think I'm some kind of victim or to be pitied, but you don't seem to--"

  "I don't," Ace said firmly. "No question."

  "Right. And I talked about it, and I don't know... it lost some power over me, I guess. Maybe I'll be dealing with it for the rest of my life, I have no fucking clue, but I think talking about it was better. At least a little."

  "So there's your answer."

  "I'm not sure I even remember the question." Liam dropped his face to his hands. "Talking about that shit is confusing."

  "Hey," Ace said gently. "Why don't you just do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Tell her your story. Frankie'll listen. She's used to people telling her their problems."

  "She'll guess what I'm after if I do that."

  "Probably, but at least she'll know that you're not just riding in on a white horse to save her from something."

  "Maybe."

  "Good. 'Cause I'm texting her right now to tell her you're coming to drop off some of the advertisements."

  "What?" Liam dropped his hands. "Why?"

  "So you don't talk yourself out of it. Your first impulse is usually a good one, and I think you'll make yourself crazy about if you don't try. And," Ace clicked send, "I actually do need to drop some of those off to her. Winning all around."

  "Says you."

  "Says me," Ace agreed, dropping a twenty out of his wallet onto the table. "Go check in on Gene. I'll leave some of the advertisements on the kitchen table. You can swing by Frankie's before you go in tonight. Should be quiet if you hit in the late afternoon."

  "Maybe I should take her out to coffee."

  "Trust me, there is nowhere in the world she would feel more comfortable and safe than behind that bar."

  Fervently hoping that Ace was right, Liam followed his directions. Gene kicked his ass at Jeopardy before he headed back to the house to pick up the promised glossies. He couldn't help but smile down at the little drawing of the gaslight. Maybe Deb had been right, and the sketch did have some power after all. It alone had brought Liam to Great Sin.

  The thought comforted him as he headed out to Frankie's on his strange errand. There were only two cars in the parking lot when he pulled in. One was a restored bright purple VW bug that had to be Frankie's. He walked through the front door reluctantly. The television above the bar was on, a baseball game's announcer speaking softly into the hushed dark space. The single patron sat at one of the tall tables, transfixed by the screen, beer forgotten in one hand. Behind the bar, Frankie sat on a stool drying glasses and setting them in neat rows.