The Broken Triangle (8 page)

“Vin, don’t be a fucking cock-tease.” Riley sounded irritated. “If you don’t want to blow me, jerk me off.”

Vin sat back on his heels, jolted out of his enjoyment. “Are we on a deadline here? What’s the rush?”

“It’s sex. You don’t have to make it last. I get off; you get off. It feels as good if it takes five minutes or fifty.”

In Vin’s experience, limited though it was to jerking off, that wasn’t true. Sometimes, sure, he’d been so turned on he’d barely wrapped his hand around his cock before he’d come, the pleasure intense, but he’d learned to spin a session out, rocking into the loose grip of his curved fingers, playing with his balls until they were so sensitized the scrape of a fingernail had him moaning.

Coming after that had left him sprawled across his bed staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t make it to fifty, not with you, but we haven’t even gotten to five.”

Riley threw his arm up over his eyes and groaned. It wasn’t a good groan. “I’m such an asshole.”

“No, you’re not.” Vin hesitated, then pulled Riley’s arm away from his face. “You’re not. A little impatient, but under the circumstances I don’t think that’s an unreasonable thing to be.”

“I’m rushing you.”

“Kind of.” There were times when Vin hated that he always had to be so honest. “I’ve never done this. I waited a long time, you know? I don’t want to turn around and wonder how it all happened so fast. I want to remember all of it.”

Riley rolled toward him and brushed warm lips over his thigh. “Ignore me. I don’t want you to look back and think how it could have been so great except I was pushing you into stuff you weren’t ready for.”

“I’m ready,” Vin assured him. “Take some deep breaths. I promise you won’t still be lying here tomorrow morning wondering when the hell I’m going to get you off.”

Sitting up, Riley kissed him, hand sliding to grasp Vin’s cock. He squeezed gently, and Vin exhaled against Riley’s lips. “I have an idea,” Riley whispered. “Lie down like this. Don’t do anything you don’t want to. Just try it.”

Vin lay on his side, facing Riley’s cock. It was flushed with blood, eager for him, and the skin looked so soft he had to touch it. He would have done more without prompting, but Riley’s mouth closed wetly over the tip of his cock, delicious hot suction that had him moving to do the same.

Riley, like Vin, was uncut, but Riley’s foreskin had folded down to expose the cleft head of his cock. The narrow slit yielded a taste that spread over Vin’s questing tongue and filled his mouth, a bitter saltiness.

Eager now, any hesitation gone, he shifted on the bed and got a grunt of protest from Riley as his knee struck Riley’s chest. He drew back and murmured an apology that received no response. Talking was evidently not going to happen, and given what Riley was doing with his mouth, Vin couldn’t complain.

He settled down, moving with a care that robbed his arousal of its edge. Just as well after all his talk about taking things slowly.

Once Riley’s cock was in Vin’s mouth, Riley took it as a signal all systems were go. Vin choked, gagging as Riley pumped his hips fast, sending his cock too deep for Vin to deal with comfortably. His mouth filled with saliva, some trickling out onto his cheek and then to the comforter. Vin tried to work his hand into a position where he could wipe his face, but, lying on his side, Riley still fucking his mouth with short, forceful stabs, it wasn’t easy.

Riley sucked Vin’s cock harder, and it was like his tongue was everywhere at once. It felt too good. Vin tried to focus on the slide of Riley’s shaft between his lips and how to find a rhythm for his breathing that went along with Riley’s thrusts. That worked for twenty seconds or so. After that, nothing he thought about could have postponed the inevitable. He couldn’t even warn Riley, not with his mouth full of cock. His first time sucking cock.

That was the thought that pushed him over the edge, his climax violent and fast and not totally enjoyable because he was trying not to choke. Riley swallowing around his cock, fingertips on his balls teasing him as Vin moaned with relief and pleasure.

“Gonna come,” Riley muttered against his thigh a few moments later. “God, Vin.”

Slick, faintly bitter fluid pulsed into Vin’s mouth. He did his best not to gag, but it was a close thing. He pulled away before Riley was finished and made himself swallow, then wiped a hand across his mouth.

It didn’t taste pleasant. Was it supposed to? Spitting it out seemed rude, but it had definitely been his first instinct. He ran his tongue over his teeth and swallowed a few times, trying to wash the taste down.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” His nose was running. Vin sniffed and gave up on looking cool. “Uh, you said there was a bathroom?”

“Through there. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Vin hesitated. He couldn’t kiss Riley. Not with his lips coated with spit and cum. He didn’t want to inflict that on Riley, and he didn’t want to taste a similar mixture on Riley’s lips. He settled for patting Riley’s leg reassuringly and slid off the bed.

After taking a piss and swilling his mouth out, followed by washing his face, he felt better. He studied his reflection, checking for stray globs or food stuck between his teeth, but he seemed to be okay. Strands of black hair, long enough to fall past his shoulders, clung to his wet face, and he used a thick white towel to dry off.

His cock was damp too, and he cupped his hand under the faucet and rinsed his dick clean. Using the towel to dry it left him searching for a hamper. He was still looking when Riley knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Flustered, the towel still in his hand, Vin opened the door as Riley reached for the handle. They didn’t collide, but they ended up with not much space between them.

Riley gave him a quizzical look. “Not the cuddling type? I’m not either, but I know some guys go in for it, and I kind of thought you’d be one of them.”

“It’s not that so much. Just adjusting. You know. Everything’s kind of new, and I guess I needed a minute.” Vin knew he sounded like an idiot, and his legs were trembling. “I wouldn’t mind lying down, though.”

“Yeah, of course. Come on.” Solicitous, Riley led him back to the bed and slid in next to him, flipping the covers up. “At the risk of being annoying, how’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Vin wasn’t annoyed; he appreciated Riley’s concern. “I promise. A little overwhelmed.”

“Is there anything I can do? I could get you a glass of water. Or tea? I think I have tea.” Riley was already moving to get up.

Vin caught hold of his wrist. “I don’t want tea. Stay here and keep me company.”

Lying down again, Riley shifted into a more comfortable position on his side and rested a hand on Vin’s hip. It felt nice there. Warm.

“Stay the night,” Riley murmured into his ear, following it with a kiss. “It’s not late. We can watch a movie or play a game. Whatever you want. Or we could just stay here.”

Vin had the early shift, but for the most part his job involved late nights or late mornings. The pub opened at eleven, and unless a delivery was expected, living on the premises meant he could usually sleep to a decent hour. After the fire that had come close to destroying the bar, Shane and Ben both got antsy when no one was around overnight, but this once wouldn’t matter; Vin was sure of it. Full of good food, his nerve endings still humming pleasantly, he didn’t want to dress and exchange companionship for solitude.

“Sure. Sounds great. Sleeping over, I mean.” Would he snore? Did he snore? The last time Vin had shared a bed was at a sleepover at his cousin’s house, and he’d been ten.

Riley traced the tattoo on Vin’s left shoulder, dark, slashing lines and curves making a dramatic statement. “This had to hurt.”

“In a good way.” Vin didn’t want to talk about his ink, not when Riley’s ambivalence was clear. “Do you have to get up early tomorrow?”

“God, yes. Dad insists we’re there before everyone else. Setting an example. It’s a good idea unless I’m hungover, in which case it sucks.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Vin wasn’t judgmental about people drinking—that would have made him a hypocrite, considering where he worked—but he was curious.

“What, me being hungover?” Riley shrugged with one shoulder. “Not really. Sometimes, I guess. I don’t keep track. What’s it like working at the bar?”

“There’s a lot less drama than you’d think, with all the alcohol and all the pretty gay boys.” Vin tugged the pillow under his head, then stroked his fingertips over Riley’s chest. “But most of them are watching their calorie intake, so there aren’t very many nights when we have to break up arguments or anything.”

“Benefits of working at a gay bar over a straight one.”

“I guess. We were closed down for such a long time after the fire, months and months, and I picked up some part-time work in other bars around town, filling in for people. Totally different feel to them. I had to listen to jerks making comments about gays and not tell them they were assholes the way I would if I’d been in the Peg.”

“Your bosses would back you up?”

Vin nodded. “All the way. Straight people are welcome, but any sign of trouble and they’re kicked out. Shane doesn’t mess around. He’s not big, but he’s tough, and he’s got this way of staring at people he doesn’t like that makes their balls shrivel. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.” He grinned. “It could be a rumor he planted.”

“So you were there the night of the fire?”

Smoke curling through the air, panicked voices, and the stink of the ashes the next day added up to a horrible memory. Vin didn’t trust himself to talk about it without ranting, so he settled for another nod.

“It must have sucked.” Riley rubbed his back with gentle strokes. “No, I can tell. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Good. I don’t know if I can. Not right now. Another time.” He didn’t have the emotional energy. At the risk of being accused of snuggling, Vin hitched himself closer to Riley until his mouth was pressed against Riley’s collarbone. “You smell nice.”

“Yeah? You too.”

They lay together chatting and cuddling for an hour or so, then watched the TV in the bedroom for a while. When it got to midnight, Riley turned off the TV and asked, “You’re still staying? Because I think I’d better get some sleep.”

Was that a hint he should go? Vin hesitated, but he was warm in bed beside Riley, and he wanted to spend the night, waking to hear Riley breathing, close enough to touch. “If you don’t mind.”

“You’re the one who should mind. It’s my alarm clock that’ll be waking you up at six thirty. And I’ll warn you now, I’m not a morning person.” Yawning, Riley reached to turn off the light, then adjusted the covers before settling down again. “Need anything?”

“No. I’m good.” Right then, Vin had everything he needed.

“This movie always makes me cry.” Patrick dabbed a finger under his eye and caught what Vin was sure was an imaginary teardrop. Patrick with mascara was mundane; Patrick with black streaks on his face was unthinkable.

“
Elf
is supposed to be funny,” Vin pointed out, still wondering why they were watching it.

Patrick was wearing skintight red jeans with gold glitter worked into the fabric so it shimmered when he moved. He’d topped it with a forest-green cropped sweater. The huge, rolled neck made him look like a baby bird poking its head over the side of the nest, looking for a worm delivery. It was his way of announcing the start of the festive season, though it was only the first of December.

Vin’s mother, Maria, had amended the Christmas traditions she was used to, adding in anything that was important to her husband, but Vin had been brought up with the celebrations—
Las Posadas
—starting on December the sixteenth. Maria had hung a piñata for her children to strike with sticks until it cracked, candy and small gifts showering over the floor. She’d stopped doing it when Vin, the youngest, protested he was too grown up, a patient hurt in her eyes that made him regret his words.

“It’s a tragedy, and it doesn’t know it.” Patrick sighed. “Next week, you get to choose what we watch. No more sad ones. Explosions that knock drool-worthy men out of their shirts. Porn. Anything with Matt Damon.” He tilted his head inquiringly, increasing his resemblance to a bird. “Unless you’re going to cancel our date to spend a few hours making big eyes at wonder boy?”

The weekly standing date with Patrick to watch movies, eat popcorn, and bitch about life was part of Vin’s routine. There was no specific day for it; it was arranged for whatever night they both had the evening free, but the idea of canceling it because he had Riley in his life now was ridiculous, and he told Patrick so.

“Hmm.” Patrick tossed a piece of popcorn up and caught it in his mouth, snapping his small white teeth triumphantly. “Girl, I’ve heard that before.”

“Not from me,” Vin said.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re men; we’re all wired the same. Opportunity for sex comes along, all bets are off.” Patrick was blinking his eyes fast, personality turned up to maximum volume, but he sounded serious.

“Not me.” But Vin wanted to be honest, so he added, “Don’t get me wrong. I like sex as much as the next guy, but going so long without it makes it seem a little less vital.”

“Less vital?” Patrick sounded scandalized at the idea. “You aren’t a newbie, honey. You’re insane.”

“I survived without it.”

“But now you’ve had it—had him—and you’re not pawing at the ground, zipper permanently down?”

“Jesus, no. What is wrong with you? You worry me sometimes. You’re hung up on sex, and it’s not all there is to a relationship. But how would you know? You’ve never had one that lasted.” Vin drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch he was sharing with Patrick, shoulder muscles tensing when Patrick sucked in an outraged breath. Patrick had nagged him about not getting laid, but Vin’s refusal to consider it had ended the conversation easily enough. Now that Vin was with someone, he expected approval, not an increase in the nagging.

It didn’t seem fair.

“Sorry. Guess you touched a nerve.” His words smacked into a wall of stony silence. That worried him. Shane had once said when Patrick stopped talking, it meant one of three things—he was pissed off, eating, or sucking dick.