Bad Influence

by K.A. Mitchell

  Marissa wouldn’t have deliberately screwed him over. But once it was out—

  To Eli, Silver said, “I’d just turned seventeen, and my parents threatened to have him put in jail. That was one of the reasons I agreed to go to that place I told you about.”

  “But if you were seventeen—shit, the laws in Pennsylvania suck. How does anybody get laid?”

  “I heard them talking with a lawyer. It was because two weeks before we got busted, Zeb got a job in my school district. Made it different, even though he wasn’t teaching me.” Silver made a disgusted sound. “I should have known they wouldn’t go through with it. Too much public exposure of their queer son.”

  Eli cupped his chin in his hands and leaned forward. “So, after the hot-for-teacher drama, what then?”

  “You know the rest.” Or as much as Silver was willing to tell. “That place was worse than a prison. After I managed my jailbreak, I hitched back home. They didn’t care what that place was like. It was that or the streets. You know what I picked. It was Baltimore or Philly, and I figured Baltimore was warmer. It was closer.”

  “No, what happened with Zeb?”

  “He wasn’t there when I got back.” That much was true. At least not the Zeb that Jordan Samuel Barnett had been in love with. “I don’t know if he quit or got fired. I didn’t know how to find him again.”

  “Oh my God, you guys are like Romeo and… Julio.” Eli’s eyes were wide with sympathy. “But wait. Why did you skip out when you figured that was him coming to the party?”

  Yeah. What about that? Lying was extra easy when most of it was true. “I’d managed to get a note to a friend to give to him after I got shipped off so he’d know where I was, what had happened. But the other night I found out he never got it.”

  “Totally Romeo and Julio. And you never saw him again until he jumped out of the car Saturday night?”

  “Nope.”

  Eli sighed and dragged his coffee cup across the table. “That’s pretty fucking epic. Even better than Kellan and Nate.”

  “An epic disaster, yeah.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  Silver jerked his head up from where he had doodled a Z in the syrup on his dish.

  Scratching it out with force, he said, “When did I ever say I did?”

  “You were seventeen. Of course you were in love.”

  Not at first. At first he’d just been horny and Zeb had been cute. And funny. After that, yeah, so maybe the earth did move and Silver’s stomach flipped over from nothing but a wink of one of those warm hazel eyes.

  “So?” Silver challenged.

  “So do you still feel about him the way you did before?”

  There hadn’t been any of those feelings when he saw Zeb this time. No earth moving or stomach flipping or horniness. So why was it so important to get back at Zeb? If Silver didn’t care, it should have been easy to say Fuck off and get out of my life. And if he still cared, he wouldn’t be coming up with a way to hurt Zeb.

  It wasn’t as if the plan was to destroy his life. Just give him a little taste of what it had felt to be turned away like that. To want something, to believe in it so much that you convinced yourself it was real, only to have it taken away. Silver only knew he couldn’t let it go. So what was another lie to Eli if it got Zeb free access to the house?

  Of course, the way Eli was looking right now, kind of dreamy and misty-eyed like he wanted to take Silver’s hand and squeeze it sympathetically, Eli would be doing everything he could to spin this as his “epic” love story. That might come in handy.

  He was also looking like he was waiting for Silver’s answer, and instead of taking his hand, Eli jabbed Silver’s arm with a finger. “Do you still love him?”

  “I don’t know.” Silver shrugged. “It’s been a long time.” To his surprise, it was the absolute truth.

  Chapter Six

  THE AIR was hot and sticky and as disgusting as a trick’s unwashed ball sac. Which was normal for Baltimore in late May. Silver was helping Eli carry plates and shit out to the patio table. Which was abnormal when there was a nice air-conditioned kitchen right behind them.

  “Cook and eat. Outside. On purpose. Like ten thousand years of progress never happened,” Silver complained as he put the stack of stuff down. “Benjamin Franklin would totally curse you out.”

  “Look at you, all history-knowing. Wait until I tell Quinn.” Eli peeled a piece of hair off his face.

  “Don’t get excited. If a guy’s face is on money, I know who he is.”

  “Apparently cooking outside is required for man points.” Eli tipped his head toward Silver and jerked his chin at the grill, where Quinn and Jamie were standing.

  “And apparently,” Quinn said as he strode over, “someone went a little crazy in the outdoor living area of the Home Depot, and I said if we bought it, we were using it.” He draped an arm around Eli’s shoulders.

  “That was in March. When I had all these lustful feelings for spring. Now I’m over it. And hot.” He shoved Quinn’s arm away.

  “And cranky.” Quinn’s hand landed on Eli’s ass with a light tap and squeeze.

  Silver rolled his eyes. One look at Eli and it was obvious all his protesting about suburbia was complete crap. He loved this setup, just as much as he loved having a Daddy. Everything about the way he carried out his tray full of burgers and ketchup and relish and cheese and buns and pickles and pasta salad showed how much he loved having a house—home to take care of for his man. Probably would have been perfectly content as a fifties housewife.

  Jamie stomped over, knocking back some of his Red Dog beer. “Be sure to stick to soda, kid. Wouldn’t want to have to bust Quinn for serving to someone underage.”

  “Wow. That was a dazzling example of wit. Did you spend all day thinking it up?” Silver grabbed Jamie’s beer and stole a sip. “Uh-oh. Now you’ll have to bust yourself.”

  “Hey.” Jamie snatched the bottle back and glared.

  Oh shit. Sometimes it was so easy to forget. Forget that Silver had something inside him that scared other people. Scared himself when he thought about it.

  Jamie glanced down at his beer, then brought the bottle to his lips and knocked it back again. “Smart-assed kid.” He flicked a nail against Silver’s knuckle.

  Silver tried not to make his exhale audible. “Ow. Hey, isn’t that abusing someone underage?”

  “Yeah, nice try.”

  Quinn went back to the grill, and Eli carried over the plate of burgers. Nothing veggie, so Nate wasn’t coming, but even assuming Jamie and Quinn ate two each, there were too many.

  Silver sank into one of the chairs. “Where’s your better half? And I mean ‘better’ in every sense of the word.”

  “Gavin,” Jamie said with emphasis as he sat opposite, “is not half of anything. We’re not joined at the hip. But he was invited, and he’ll be here after he takes care of some stuff.”

  “Uh-huh.” Silver couldn’t blame Gavin if he was already doing his best to avoid spending time around Jamie’s annoying ass. “So what do you call him, then?”

  “Usually I call him Gavin. It being his name and all.” Jamie picked at his beer label.

  “He’s not your boyfriend?”

  “Why, you looking for a date?”

  “No.” And fuck no. But Jamie would probably think Silver was disrespecting Gavin if he said it aloud, and that was far from true. “Just asking. You’re kind of touchy about it.” This was the most fun Silver had had in weeks. “Did you ask him to marry you and he turned you down, gold digger?”

  “I liked you better when you were just some brat at the club who couldn’t give a decent blow job.” Jamie made a disgusted sound and swung out of the chair.

  When Gavin walked down the driveway a few minutes later, he greeted Jamie with a kiss. It went quick, but Silver could tell it would have been longer and deeper without the audience. He could always tell. Truth was in the body language, the way a couple became more than two guys st
anding near each other. Though they weren’t looking at each other or touching, there was something in the way they held themselves, like there was a magnetic field between them so they were pulled to each other, even if neither of them moved. Something porn with a plot never managed to show, why “Real-Life Lovers” porn sold well. No matter what guys said about only wanting to get off, they still craved the fantasy of a connection deeper than skin.

  Quinn saluted Gavin with a grill spatula, and Eli offered a full-body hug before going back inside the house. From Silver’s point of view, sprawled in the nicely cushioned patio chair, it was like watching a movie—or a really boring reality show. Real Househusbands of Baltimore. The cliché was complete when Eli came out of the house with a glass of red wine and handed it off to Gavin.

  “It’s from the bottle you gave us at the party. I made sure to let it breathe,” Eli said.

  “Thank you.” Gavin nodded as he took the glass. Except for the Gucci loafers, he wasn’t dressed much differently from Jamie, cargo shorts and a short-sleeved collared shirt. What set him apart was the crispness of it, the way it seemed like a photo shoot was about to start any second, complete with a fan to capture the flow of Gavin’s hair from his face as he posed with a hand on his hip. Perfect and rich, he ought to be more out of place in Eli’s slice-of-suburbia backyard than Silver. But it was clear who didn’t belong. And it wasn’t Gavin or Eli, with his goth hair and waving, gesturing hands.

  Silver breathed in the sizzle and smoke of the grease from the grill, a smell from his childhood. Not that there were barbeques in his backyard. No, that wouldn’t have fit the image Dr. and Mrs. Thomas Barnett were so careful to create. But at friends’ houses, and at church, back when church felt more like a fun place to do an art project or sing and act out stories with other kids, instead of a lecture on why he was destined for hell.

  Gavin made his way to the table and chose the folding chair that didn’t match the rest of the set.

  “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for saving my ass.” Silver wiped a hand on his shorts before offering it to Gavin. It wasn’t like Silver was nervous; it was still hot as fuck. Even the outsides of his elbows were sweating.

  Gavin shook hands, but his shoulders lifted in an apologetic shrug. “Glad I could help.”

  And that could have been it. A few standard phrases, the expected thing. Gavin didn’t seem to be any more interested in prolonging the conversation than Silver. He’d probably only come over here to be polite. Like he had when he gave Silver that outrageous present at Eli’s party, a silver money clip from Tiffany’s.

  One of the few things Silver owned worth hanging on to.

  It wasn’t good to rock the boat. Gavin seemed mellow enough, but there was no way to be sure he wouldn’t decide to stop paying the lawyer or pull the bail if Silver pissed him off. Or maybe his goodwill only went as far as Jamie’s interest, which was due to Quinn, which was due to Eli. Maybe it was better to not make anyone think too hard about why they had decided to give a shit whether or not Silver rotted in jail.

  He’d approach with extreme caution. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You did.” Gavin’s slight smile was polite, though his answer was smartassed. No wonder he could tolerate hanging with that arrogant asshole cop.

  “I mean….” Maybe Silver should drop it, but Gavin nodded like he was telling Silver to go on.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I can.”

  Yeah, no shit. But what did it mean, and what—“Like what do you expect from me? You gotta know I can’t ever pay you back.”

  Anyone else and he’d be sure he knew what kind of payback a guy would expect, even if what Silver needed was only a place to crash and some food. But the way Gavin had looked at him the night when Eli threw him a birthday party—it wasn’t the kind of interest or attention Silver was used to seeing on a man.

  Gavin’s finger stroked the bowl on his wineglass for a bit before he answered. “Maybe I’m helping you because I hope you’ll learn something it took me years to figure out.”

  When Gavin didn’t go on, Silver prompted, “What’s that?”

  “Sometimes people simply like you. They offer kindness and friendship, even if you didn’t do anything to earn it.”

  “Yeah. And then when you learn to count on it, they fuck you over.”

  Gavin smiled, but his eyes were flat. “Yes, that, unfortunately, is also part of the equation. But somehow I doubt you need any help in learning that.”

  Gavin wasn’t staring or doing anything else creepy, but Silver still felt uncomfortable. He had the feeling there wasn’t much Gavin didn’t see through, that the lies Silver could spin so easily to friends and assholes alike would raise a red flag along with Gavin’s eyebrow as he said whatever people like him said instead of You are so full of shit.

  The only other person who had seemed so aware of who Silver really was had been Zeb. And even then, his knowing had been based on one lie after another to maintain the first one he’d told him about his age.

  “Hey, Silver, you want cheese on yours?” Quinn called from near the grill, providing a perfect opportunity for escape.

  “Yeah. You ready for the rolls?” Silver would happily trade Gavin’s too-perceptive sympathy for Eli’s overt nagging.

  “Sure,” Quinn said.

  As Silver crossed the whole four-yard space of lawn and handed Quinn the package of Goldman’s buns, Eli was saying, “And the next time they saw each other was Saturday night, when Zeb got lost going home from the bar.”

  “Guy needs a GPS to find his way to the head in his own house,” Quinn muttered.

  Jamie was the only one who noticed that Silver was standing there. “Maybe you should have let the guy tell his own story, Eli.”

  “Hey.” Eli waved and grinned exaggeratedly, then shrugged. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”

  “That’s what he said,” Jamie said, and both he and Quinn burst out laughing.

  “Sorry.” And this time Eli did sound sorry. “Honestly. When Jamie’s around, it’s like they’re both twelve years old.” As the laughter faded, Eli turned his head toward Silver. “You know, thinking about it, why didn’t Zeb ever try to find you?”

  “Let’s save a small bit of consideration for what it was like for Zeb to find out he’d been screwing a high schooler.” Quinn shuddered like it was the most repulsive thing ever, like he wasn’t fucking someone half his age.

  But Jamie called bullshit. “Hey, you got a taste for fresh chicken, you gotta learn to check the date on the package. Did you bother?”

  Eli chuckled. “Oh, he did. I showed him an ID.”

  “I told him I was nineteen,” Silver mumbled. Then he glanced at Quinn. “And Zeb was only twenty-two when we met.”

  “Still, you were, what, sixteen?” Jamie asked.

  Silver glanced away. Maybe he’d have been better off with Gavin. He might see through bullshit, but he didn’t act all judgmental.

  Quinn started sliding the burgers onto a plate. They’d taken two steps away from the grill when Eli poked Silver’s biceps. Hard.

  “That wasn’t your actual birthday. On your license. The one I threw you a party for.”

  Silver shook his head.

  “When is it really?” Eli asked.

  “August.”

  “Well, don’t think you’re getting another one.” With that pronouncement, Eli flounced his ass onto a chair.

  “Or more presents.” Jamie flicked some of the sweat from his fresh beer at Silver. It was nice and cool.

  “By the way, I won a hundred twenty on those scratch-offs you gave me.” In reality, Silver had been surprised to win ten dollars, but he figured the inflated amount would piss Jamie off.

  Instead, Jamie grinned and dropped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Told you my present might be worth almost as much as yours.”

  “Almost.” Gavin smiled. With Jamie behind him, Gavin had to know the guy couldn’t see his face, but stil
l the smile was so much more than the polite attention shown in the ones Gavin gave Silver.

  The ache was so sharp and sudden, Silver first thought it was the heat, the stifling air burning into the lining of his lungs.

  It wasn’t the heat. It was almost jealousy, because Silver wanted Gavin to smile like that at him. But he knew the feeling wasn’t about Gavin; it was about him and Jamie. Not as if Gavin wasn’t totally hot. If Silver still wanted to fuck as much as he wanted to breathe, he would pay Gavin for a chance to suck him off.

  No, what hurt was what the smile meant. If someone who was as much of a complete asshole as Jamie could get such a smile out of Gavin, it was enough to make Silver want to believe in some bible verse he’d drawn a picture for in Sunday school. Love forgets mistakes.

  To believe maybe there’d be someone, someday, who’d do that for him. Look at him like he mattered, the way Zeb used to. Someone who’d make Silver give him the smile that forgave everything.

  After the food was distributed, Gavin asked, “Are you excited about your exhibition, Eli?”

  “You seriously have to ask? I’m totally freaking out. Thank you so much for introducing me to your friend at the gallery.”

  Gavin did his shrug thing again, like he wasn’t some kind of fairy godmother waving around the money wand. “My friend thinks he’s the one who will be grateful. He expects you’ll sell very well with the limited run of prints.”

  “You’re all coming to the opening, right?” Eli gave them a peeking-from-under-his-bangs look. Effective on Quinn, maybe, but it made Silver cover his face in disgust.

  “If I don’t have to work,” Jamie answered quickly, then added in a mutter to Gavin, “How come when you get involved it means uncomfortable suits?”

  “It’s artsy. You can get away with skipping a tie,” Eli said. Gavin nodded, and Jamie’s habitual scowl faded slightly.

  Eli and Gavin started talking more artsy details while Quinn and Jamie talked about a bunch of guys Silver didn’t know. Which was fine. Silver had had enough attention on him. A little peace was a nice change. He washed down his burger with iced tea and figured in another five minutes he could go inside and stop sweating.