“Good. Not that there’d be anything wrong with it. Rent boys get laid for kicks too.”
“Are you a rent boy?”
“No. But I’ve hooked up a lot, so that’s probably why I’m coming across a bit cold. Sorry, mate. It’s habit. To be honest, I’m nervous too. It’s been a long time since I brought someone home.”
“Thought you said you hook up a lot?”
“I said Ihave.I don’t anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because someone told me about two hours ago that it wasn’t making me happy, and they were right.” Rhys took a step closer to Jevon. “Wow. You’re shaking. You really haven’t done this much, have you?”
“I haven’t done it at all.”
Silence. Then Rhys’s eyes widened. “You’re a virgin?”
“Not exactly.” Heat crept up the back of Jevon’s neck. “I’ve been with women—lots of women—but I realised a few years ago that I was more attracted to men and that I was probably on the gayer side of bi. Just haven’t had the balls to do much about it since.”
Jevon braced himself for another round of awkward silence, or even amusement on Rhys’s part, but Rhys merely shrugged and slugged Jevon’s shoulder. “Makes sense. I’m bi too, so you’re welcome to test the waters with me, but that’s not why we’re here, okay? Let’s get the vodka out and talk. Don’t worry about anything else.”
It was the best offer Jevon had ever heard in his entire life. He poured vodka into tumblers while Rhys kicked off his shoes and unfolded his bed.
“More comfortable,” Rhys said when he caught Jevon tracking him. “If we do get fruity, it’s a pain in the arse to stop and piss around with levers and pillows.”
The idea of getting fruity was still making Jevon dizzy. He tipped a shot of vodka down his throat and poured another, trying not to imagine how it would feel to have Rhys’s solid body pressing down on him. They were pretty evenly matched in size, but everything about Rhys told Jevon that if anything physical happened, he’d be entirely at Rhys’s mercy.
Rhys sprawled on the bed and eyed Jevon hovering in the doorway, still clutching the vodka. “Are you hungry?”
“Hmm?”
“Hungry,” Rhys repeated. “It’s pretty late, but the pizza place downstairs delivers until midnight.”
It took a lot for Jevon not to be hungry, but being alone in a flat with a bloke who’d made it clear he wouldn’t mind getting naked was probably at the top of the list. He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.”
“Are you staying?”
“What?”
Rhys grinned. “You look like you’re about to scarper—which is fine, by the way. I wouldn’t be offended, but leave the vodka behind. I’ve got a week off work and I plan on spending at least one night of it off my rocker.”
He turned his attention to the TV and switched it on, grumbling at the SKY remote until it did what he asked.Match of the Daycame on, and the familiar theme tune took Jevon back to his grandfather’s house in Brixton. If he hadn’t been sick with nerves, he’d have been able to smell the jerk chicken.
Chill, you fool. He’s not asking you to bend over.
Another conflicted shudder ran through Jevon. He’d imagined himself doing just that so many times that it had begun to seem real—like something he’d done enough that it had become unremarkable. But at the same time, picturing it gave him goosebumps. Could he do that? Did he even want to?
Lacking any better ideas, he toed his boots off, ventured forward with the vodka bottle, and held it out.
Rhys closed his fingers around it. He didn’t touch Jevon, but a spark hit Jevon all the same, and he leaned forward as though Rhys had tugged on a puppet string. The vodka bottle fell to the bed and Rhys was up on his knees before Jevon could blink. His hands ghosted to Jevon’s face, his thumbs skimming Jevon’s jawline. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Jevon’s, gently at first, but then harder when Jevon tentatively responded.
The world shifted differently to the first time—in the pub and outside in the alleyway. This time, Jevon’s limbs trembled, but Rhys held him steady, controlling him and controlling the kiss, like he sensed that Jevon was hanging on by a thread. Their chests collided, but gently. Their breaths shortened, but slowly—casually—and Jevon didn’t lose his mind, his sanity, or the hope that he could see this through.
Rhys pulled back with a low chuckle. “We’re getting good at that.”
Jevon laughed too. “Practise, eh?”
“If you like.” Rhys winked and fell back on the bed, beckoning Jevon to join him. “Do you mind if I ask you some stuff?”