Operation Makeover

by D. J. Jamison

  It was nearly 10 p.m. by the time they left the restaurant, and the house was dark when he walked inside. Ronnie worked an earlier shift than him during the week, clocking in at five a.m., so he wasn’t surprised. After the heavy meal, he wasn’t too chipper himself, so he stripped down and got in the shower.

  When he touched himself, thinking of Cole, he didn’t even feel bad about it.

  That kiss spurred new fantasies, involving deep, wet kisses in the shower. Exploring Cole’s slim body. Sucking his cock. The vision of Cole on his knees was a fine one, but Ridley wanted to know his taste and smell. Imagined the weight of Cole’s cock on his tongue, pulsing as he moaned.

  He shoved two fingers in his mouth, sucking them as he stroked himself, moaning around them as he came against the shower tile.

  Ronnie texted Ridley over lunch to remind him about dinner and drinks with a few friends, including Lena, Mandy, and Pete. Jace was working, so Ridley didn’t have to worry about him wanting to tag along when he went dancing. But he let Ronnie know he’d be ducking out early to go to Q with Cole.

  She hadn’t responded. She couldn’t really text except when on a break, so he didn’t worry about it. But she was all over him the moment he walked in the door that evening when he got home from work.

  “Are you dating Cole now?”

  “How about you let me get inside before the interrogation,” he said, shutting the door firmly behind him.

  “So, I’m curious! You guys had that blazing hot kiss, and now you’re going dancing. And you hate dancing.”

  “That’s kind of the point,” Ridley said, avoiding the reference to the kiss. “The makeover isn’t just about my hair and my clothes. I mean, maybe that’s how it started. But now I’m just … making over me. I’ve been in a rut for a long time. I stopped trying new things a long time ago. And dancing is … I won’t lie; I’m terrified I’m going to make a fool of myself. But I want to do it.”

  Ronnie beamed at him, standing to pinch his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, baby brother. I think it’s great.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Cole is great,” she added. “Meeting him has been really good for you.”

  “It has,” he agreed. “But it’s not like I can just trade out my crush on Jace for one on Cole.”

  “Can’t you?” she said. “Your emotions aren’t locked in stone. You’re allowed to like Cole. And why wouldn’t you?” She held up fingers, ticking off points. “He’s hot. He’s sweet. You guys have got great chemistry.” She looked at her remaining two fingers. “Did I mention he’s hot and you have great chemistry?”

  Ridley groaned out a laugh. “I know.”

  “Well, then?”

  “I don’t know, okay?” Ridley said. “I care about Jace. It’s not like I can just stop. If I could, I would have done it years ago.”

  “Yeah, but things are different now. You’re different with Cole.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But come on. Cole doesn’t want me to be his boyfriend. He’s having fun playing fashion guru. He’s a bit of a flirt with everyone.”

  “But that kiss!”

  “It was a good kiss,” Ridley admitted. “I’m a little embarrassed you saw that.”

  She shook her head. “Seeing that kiss just made me so happy for you,” she said. “To have found someone like that. And you don’t even appreciate it!”

  Her eyes grew misty, surprising him. “Uh … it’s not that I don’t feel anything for Cole. I do. He’s such a great guy. A good friend. Why are you so upset?”

  She waved her hands in front of her eyes, blinking rapidly. “I’m just being stupid,” she said.

  Then she started to cry.

  “Ronnie?”

  She shook her head, dashing away her tears. “I’m just so stupid.”

  It took some time, but he managed to drag the story out of her about how she’d gotten Jace to set her up with the cute paramedic named Mason, only to have him never call her again.

  This was all news to Ridley. He felt like a jerk for being so self-involved he didn’t notice Ronnie’s relationship drama. She’d been so casual with guys since she broke up with Hank that he was caught off-guard to see her upset over a man.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “This twin thing is weird sometimes.”

  They weren’t identical twins, obviously, and they had plenty of differing traits, like Ridley’s need to keep things neat and Ronnie being a whirlwind of messy chaos. But they always seemed to synchronize on major life events. They’d had their first crush on a boy at the same age. They’d fallen in love at the same age, though Ridley’s had been unrequited love for Jace.

  And for the past few years, they’d both been content to remain single. Ridley because he was tired of trying to find someone who could compare to Jace, and Ronnie because she’d needed time to get over a long-term relationship. Ridley thought she’d been happy to play the field, but maybe they’d both been in a rut.

  Ronnie gave a watery laugh. “Sorry to intrude on your messy love life with my drama.”

  Ridley had rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a love life.”

  “Not yet,” she teased. Then she sighed. “Maybe you’re better off.”

  Ridley would rather have Ronnie pushing him to date Cole than sad and discouraged.

  “Forget that idiot and come dancing with us,” he said. “You can have fun tonight, and eventually you’ll meet someone way better. Someone who’s sweet and hot and kisses like whoa.”

  She smiled, pushing down her unhappiness with effort. “Someone like Cole?”

  “Well, hopefully not just like Cole, or you might be disappointed in other ways. Pretty sure he’s never even thought about being with a woman.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to hang out with our friends tonight. I can’t stay out too late anyway. Five a.m. comes too fast.”

  “Tell me about it.” Ridley had an earlier shift than normal the next day too. He had to clock in at six a.m. instead of his usual eight a.m. while one of his coworkers was on vacation. He hadn’t told Cole because he’d been so excited to go dancing, and Ridley couldn’t stand the idea of dimming his smile.

  He’s really getting to me, isn’t he? Ronnie’s right to question what I’m doing.

  She smiled impishly. “Now go shower and dress, so you can be beautiful for the man you’re not dating. We’re going to be late!”

  18

  Q was smaller than Ridley had expected, which was a relief. The dance floor was about the size of a living room, ringed by tall tables where people left all kinds of drinks unattended. Which didn’t seem safe, so Ridley really hoped they weren’t planning to finish any of them.

  He and Ronnie had been late to dinner, but they’d made some excuse about work running late, and no one was the wiser. They’d had tapas, and Ridley had warmed up with a couple of beers and endured some good-natured teasing about his tight jeans before Cole picked him up to go to Q. He’d opted for the ball crushers, because like Cole had said, sometimes you had to suffer to look hot. He’d worn only a T-shirt, expecting it to be hot in the club, and he’d been right. The body heat was already suffocating, and he’d just walked in.

  They stopped at the bar to order drinks. Cole ordered a shot and chaser, but Ridley wanted to pace himself because he wasn’t terribly coordinated even when sober, so he asked for a water instead of another beer. The downside to pacing himself was that his inhibitions were still firmly in place as he gravitated toward an empty table.

  Ridley hadn’t gone clubbing in a few years, but back when he did go, his strategy had been to hold down the table. Jace would dance and pick up guys, and Ridley would drink and pretend he didn’t care.

  There was a reason he hadn’t gone out in a long time.

  But Cole wasn’t Jace, and instead of leaving Ridley to protect their tiny drinks table, Cole pinned him with a determined gaze.

  “I want you to dance with me.”

  “I really don’t dance well,”
Ridley said, eyes straying to the floor crowded with couples. Q wasn’t strictly a gay bar, so there was a mix of couples: men, women, men and women. They all seemed to mysteriously know how to move their bodies to the music.

  Cole touched his face, drawing his attention back to him. “We’ve done the hair and the clothes,” he said, talking loudly to be heard over the thumping club music. “Now we have to work on your confidence!”

  Ridley shook his head. “I’ve got no rhythm!”

  “Oh, honey, I’ll make sure you move with me. Come on! Let’s work on those moves so you can wow Jace.”

  Cole grabbed his wrist, and Ridley reluctantly let himself be tugged into the mass of writhing bodies. People pressed in on all sides, jostling him into Cole’s personal space. He mumbled an apology as he stumbled, but Cole only smiled and grabbed his hips, pulling him even closer.

  He leaned in, lips brushing Ridley’s ear. “Just move with me.”

  With his hands, he guided Ridley’s hips into a slow roll. Ridley grabbed Cole’s shoulders, looking down their bodies.

  As he watched, Cole moved his hips too, bringing his groin in contact with Ridley’s. As he did a move that rubbed him more firmly, Ridley gasped. His cock started to get hard, and he was on the verge of panicking. Maybe I can run to the bathroom. Oh, God. Unless people will be messing around in there. Is Q that kind of place?

  “Relax,” Cole said into his ear. “Everyone gets turned on when dancing like this.”

  He rolled his hips again, and Ridley felt Cole’s cock against him. A shudder ran through his body. “Jesus,” he breathed.

  Cole’s reassurance did the trick. Instead of panic, lust began to roll through his body. With each roll of Cole’s hips, he fell further and further under its spell. He slid his arms around Cole’s neck, and after a while, he didn’t need Cole to guide his moves. He just let his body follow Cole as Cole’s body followed the music.

  They fell into the dancing, stopping only for water breaks. Ridley thought it was a masochistic act, this kind of sexy dancing. His cock ached, cramped in his tight pants and pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. His skin was sensitized, crackling at the lightest brush of Cole’s fingers. And his lips burned to kiss Cole again.

  He didn’t know how much longer he could take this brand of torture, but something compelled him to keep dancing, even as sweat poured off him. The permission it gave him to touch Cole, even if he couldn’t touch him in all the ways he’d craved, was addictive.

  Their eyes met, and inevitably, their lips did too.

  Cole tasted of vodka and lemon, and his mouth was so fucking hot, like every inch of him pressed against Ridley’s body, a sweet temptation that Ridley wasn’t sure he could resist much longer.

  The kiss quenched a need that had been growing ever since their first kiss the night before, and at the same time, it fired up a dozen more.

  When Cole gave in to the urge to kiss him, Ridley opened his mouth and invited Cole in with a moan. Their tongues met, danced just like they were, dipping and swirling. Their hips shifted together restlessly.

  I shouldn’t be doing this ...

  The thought was fleeting, replaced by images of all the things he shouldn’t — but desperately wanted — to do. Sucking. Fucking. Frotting. He didn’t care as long as it ended in mind-blowing orgasms for both of them. He wanted to come, but more than that, he wanted to make Ridley come. He wanted to watch him shake with pleasure because of Cole. Wanted to hear his name on Ridley’s lips for a change. Wanted to drive Jace completely out of his mind.

  At some level, he knew these urges weren’t healthy. He couldn’t fuck Jace out of Ridley’s life. But he’d love to try.

  Ridley broke away, gasping. “I can’t.”

  Cole’s heart fell. “Okay.”

  “It’s too hot,” Ridley said, fanning himself. His skin was flushed red and his eyes too bright. “I need some air.”

  Thank fuck.

  He’d thought Ridley was having a crisis of conscience. But he wasn’t rejecting Cole. He was overheated. With relief washing through him, Cole vowed not to press his luck. If he pushed Ridley too far and lost his friendship, he’d hate himself.

  “We can go,” he shouted over the music. “It’s late anyway.”

  The drive back to Ridley’s went too quickly. Cole’s body was still wound tight from the night of dancing, and he ached to have Ridley against him for another kind of dance. One with fewer clothes.

  “You want to come in?” Ridley asked shyly. When Cole met his eyes in surprise, he got flustered. “I mean, you could get some water before you go. Or maybe just crash here and drive home in the morning if you’re tired.”

  Cole almost laughed off the offer. It wasn’t that late, and he wasn’t anywhere close to drunk. But when he looked at Ridley’s face, the denial dried up on his tongue. Ridley was like an open book, and in his expression, Cole read want. It made the lust that had been on a low simmer all night flare again.

  “Sure,” Cole said casually as his cock surged to hardness once more. A low-grade ache started up in his balls, demanding relief. “Thanks.”

  Thanks for driving me crazy, he thought as he watched Ridley’s ass on the way up the porch. If he doesn’t kiss me again or touch my cock or let me touch his cock, I might cry.

  Ridley led the way to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. Cole guzzled his, waiting as tension mounted. Ridley remained quiet, watching Cole with that same longing but saying nothing.

  “I need a shower,” Cole said finally, when it seemed as if he’d misread the situation. He was covered in sweat, so it was no lie. But more importantly, he could jerk off in the shower.

  “Me too. I’ve never been so sticky!”

  “Never?” Cole asked with a raised brow, causing Ridley to blush.

  “You know what I mean,” he said. “Come on. You can shower first.”

  He led Cole to the bathroom and gave him a towel. “I’ll be right outside,” he whispered. “Ronnie’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet.”

  Cole wondered how thin the walls were. Could he jerk off without being heard? How would Ridley react if he heard Cole gasping his name as he painted the shower wall with cum? Probably best not to find out, as tempting as it was to fantasize about Ridley bursting into the shower and fucking him. Besides, he wouldn’t want to wake Ronnie. Talk about rude.

  Plus, there was still a look in Ridley’s eye as he withdrew that made Cole hope for a better release. Wishful thinking, maybe, but he could suffer through one night of blue balls if he was wrong.

  Ridley had no idea what he was doing. He’d invited Cole in with no clear plan for what came next. Only that it would probably involve sex. After the kissing and dancing at Q, he’d thought it was kind of a given that they’d get inside and rip off each other’s clothes. He’d been ready to combust right on the dance floor, but once they were in the house, he felt awkward. Unsure of himself.

  Cole hadn’t made a move, and Ridley — same, old timid Ridley — had frozen up. He’d actually given Cole a glass of water as if that was the real reason for coming in. He’d sent him into the shower alone, for fuck’s sake. Cole had to be thinking he was the hugest tease ever.

  Unless Cole didn’t expect sex. Like he said, everyone got turned on when dancing. The kiss was a natural progression of that. Maybe Ridley had misread everything. Maybe—

  Oh shit, he was horny. Ridley massaged his dick through his pants as he thought again of the feel of Cole rubbing up against him.

  Cole was so damn good with his body. And he looked fucking hot. Ridley imagined him in the shower, wet and slippery, and had to squeeze his cock hard as it throbbed with complaint.

  He was turned on beyond belief. But more than that, he was really fucking happy with how the night had gone. Cole had been right about Ridley needing to try new things. He needed to shake off the old Ridley’s fears. He needed to find his confidence. Even if it took some practice.

  The door opened, and Cole crossed
the hall to Ridley’s bedroom wearing only a towel. His hair was wet and looked a darker brown than Ridley usually saw it. His body was lean but taut with muscle. And his towel was bulging rather obviously. Cole had been turned on while they were dancing, so maybe Ridley wasn’t the only one left wanting more.

  He was determined to find out.

  “So, I was thinking,” Ridley blurted before he could chicken out.

  “About?”

  “Practicing.” Ridley swallowed hard, reaching for his courage to say the words. “Sex. Practicing sex. With you.”

  Cole’s pulse sped up, his blood racing south at Ridley’s words. Yes. This was what he’d been waiting for.

  It was so brazen, so unlike Ridley. It made him fucking proud and horny at the same time to see Ridley go after something he wanted. And he was really fucking happy to be the thing Ridley wanted, even if it was only a one-time thing after a night of hot-as-fuck dancing.

  He’d sort of expected a proposition when Ridley first invited him in, but after the glass of water, he’d begun to think Ridley had changed his mind. But damn, Ridley looked wrecked and they hadn’t even done anything yet. His face was flushed — from arousal now instead of heat — and he was biting down on his bottom lip as his gaze ate up every inch of Cole’s bare skin.

  Ridley’s confidence faltered. “If, um, the offer stands. If you even meant it. You were drunk that night you texted, so—”

  “Yes,” Cole interrupted.

  “Yeah?”

  Cole nodded. “I meant it. What do you want to do?”

  Ridley slipped off the bed and onto his knees. He pressed his face against Cole’s towel-covered cock, making it harden even more. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

  Cole’s voice came out hoarse. “You want to suck me?”

  Ridley nodded without looking up. Cole placed a hand on his hair, carding his fingers through brown layers clumped with hair product and sweat but still perfect for this moment.