Bad Influence

by K.A. Mitchell

  Quinn put his mug down but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He had the whole teacher look going for him.

  “I’m not going to take off. I know you take this court thing seriously. I won’t fuck anything up.”

  Quinn leaned back. Silver waited him out. “Guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  THE RIDE back up to Zeb’s apartment was so quiet Silver started fiddling with the radio, alternating between any station not on commercial and the Christian rock CD Zeb had in the player. At the end of every song, Zeb made a sound like he was about to say something, but nothing ever came out. When he wasn’t punching the buttons on the dash, Silver had to wipe his hands on his work slacks. The nervous flutter in his stomach that had started when he talked to Quinn over coffee had become a clanging alarm bell, the clapper swinging in time with the cross hanging from the rearview mirror.

  There was a bunch of stuff to be said, worked out. But Silver wanted to skip all of it. Skip ahead to the part that didn’t need any fixing. Where their bodies talked. Bodies, and at least on Silver’s end of things, his heart too.

  If Zeb thought Silver was going to start the conversation, the guy was out of his mind. No way was Silver risking ever feeling the way he’d felt that night again. No way was he going to ask—beg—for something and give Zeb the chance to tell him no. And working with kids with cancer was important. Silver got it, yeah, but Zeb should at least want them enough to say he didn’t want to leave.

  Instead, when the door of Zeb’s little apartment closed, all he did was go to the kitchen and stare into the fridge. “Grilled cheese sound good?”

  Silver took in the big duffel and professional-looking tall backpack lined up against the wall near the door. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

  They had grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. But Silver left most of it uneaten. Living with Eli and Quinn had gotten Silver over the urge to stuff himself until he almost puked, a habit born out of not knowing when the next chance he’d have to fill up would be. Silver wasn’t full now. But every minute that passed in silence felt like he was swallowing back volcanic rock to burn his throat and smolder in his stomach. He wiped greasy fingers off on his work slacks and pushed the food away.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I could ever measure up to Eli’s cooking,” Zeb said.

  “It’s okay. I should have said I had something at the restaurant after the lunch rush.” Should have said made it not be a lie, right? Silver had been trying like hell not to give Zeb a reason to ever throw lying back at him. Glancing over at the gear near the door, Silver added, “So you do a lot of hiking at the camp?”

  “They have a bunch of different programs for the kids. Hiking, horseback riding, swimming, boating. I like taking them out backpacking. They’re surprised at how much they can do.”

  “So you’ll be coming back with supersexy muscled legs?” You’ll be coming back being the part Silver most wanted the answer to.

  “I hope you’ll think so.”

  Okay, so there was that. Zeb planning on coming back and wanted Silver to still be interested.

  Zeb put his hand over Silver’s on the table. “It’s only six weeks. Quinn said he’d help if you had any questions about the GED test.”

  Right. Because the GED was what was keeping Silver up nights.

  He’d had enough. Leaning forward, he grabbed Zeb’s shirt. “Let’s go to bed.” Zeb nodded.

  But it wasn’t anything like the first time Silver had been here, when they’d been so hot for each other they’d barely made it to the bed. For fuck’s sake, they stopped to brush their teeth, though it was only six o’clock.

  Silver watched Zeb tuck a few more things in a toiletry bag.

  “I’ll have my phone.” Zeb met Silver’s eyes in the mirror. “I don’t know how much cell coverage there is—not much if I remember correctly.”

  Since Silver wasn’t going to hear the right answer to the question he was too scared to ask, he decided he didn’t want to hear anything else but moans.

  He pulled Zeb into the bedroom, pushed him onto the bed, and landed on top. Their kiss was full of fake mint at first. Then the toothpaste mask slipped away, and it was just them. The way Zeb kissed. The way he tasted. The way it was old and new at the same time.

  Too much.

  It wasn’t fair, having this back only to lose it again so fast. Silver knew better than most people that life wasn’t fair. That same knowing told him six weeks could change a hell of a lot.

  He lifted his head, wanting to find the camera-lens distance that would insulate him from the cracks forming in his insides.

  Rearing up, Silver focused on getting them out of their clothes efficiently and methodically, like the best of any Todd Pike Production. Zeb moaned and squirmed on cue. A tease of nipples and a light stroke on his cock had it throbbing in Silver’s hand. Everything was going along, until a glimpse at that familiar face, the darkening of Zeb’s eyes, dragged Silver back to where everything was raw, scraped feelings.

  He barely stopped himself from shaking his head. Instead he braced himself on his hands to slide down Zeb’s body. A blow job would keep them both distracted.

  But Zeb captured Silver’s face, freezing his movement. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Silver forced up a smile and tried to turn to kiss Zeb’s fingers, but the grip was too strong to move without a struggle.

  “It feels like you’re not here.”

  “I’m about to suck your cock, Zebadiah. How much more here can I get?”

  Instead of shoving Silver’s head down with a Don’t let me stop you like any guy not Zeb would, he pulled Silver close and kissed him.

  All right. His mouth wasn’t the only way to drive Zeb crazy. He shifted his hips, lining up their dicks and sliding them together. Zeb met his thrusts, groaning into Silver’s mouth.

  Zeb’s hands gripped Silver’s ass, urging him closer. Silver rocked them together, mouth sweeping along Zeb’s jaw and up to his ear. “Can I suck your dick now?”

  Zeb rolled them onto their sides, bringing a thumb up to rub across Silver’s lips.

  Silver added a little persuasion, tongue flicking out and then swirling over, finishing with a noisy suck down to the bottom knuckle.

  Zeb threaded his free hand through Silver’s hair, the soothing tingle of it making everything so much worse. “Is that all you want to ask me?” Zeb whispered.

  “What the—Christ. Can’t we just fuck?”

  “Fine.” Zeb’s voice was flat. He pulled away and then settled himself belly-down on the mattress.

  Silver reached out, but his hand froze in the air over Zeb’s shoulder. Silver’s fingers craved Zeb’s warmth, the brush of skin that had somehow managed to make him feel safe for the first time since—

  But his feet ached to hit the ground running. Take off. Safety was in getting as far away as fast as possible.

  “Silver?” Zeb’s voice was gentle.

  Silver was afraid too much would spill out in answer, but his voice was deep and low, and thank God, steady. “I just—I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone.”

  Zeb rolled onto his side. “Okay.” He ran his hand through Silver’s hair. “Okay. You know, if I hadn’t already signed on—”

  “I know.” Silver let out a sigh. It wasn’t the I’ll-stay-if-you-want-me-to he’d wanted to hear, but he’d take it. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Zeb’s mouth twisted in a smile that did just as much twisting of Silver’s insides. “Okay. I think I can handle it.”

  Silver had been fucked a lot. Like a thing bought and paid for. Like a pretty object arranged to the best angle. And back when he and Zeb had first done it, like Silver was a prize to be handled carefully.

  Now, Zeb fucked him like a man.

  Two fingers slicking and stretching, mouth making Silver twist and shift, chasing one sensation and then the other. Ripples of pleasure from his ass, tingling in his dick, a shivery echo of both when Zeb licked and s
ucked a bite into Silver’s belly.

  A bristly jaw brushed Silver’s dick. “I’ll come.”

  “That’s the plan.” Zeb’s breath, hot and sticky on the head of Silver’s cock, made him buck closer to Zeb’s mouth.

  Zeb gave him the torture of one long lick, mouth clamping over the head for a perfect shuddery moment that was over too soon, leaving Silver gasping.

  Waiting for Zeb to roll the condom down seemed to take forever. When he knee-walked up, Silver hiked his legs into his chest. Zeb snugged his dick up close, but he didn’t push in.

  Silver looked at him, and Zeb gave him that crooked smile again. The one that meant he was laughing at himself. “Want to be kissing you when I go in.”

  Silver lifted his head off the mattress to meet Zeb’s kiss. He didn’t need the distraction, but Zeb did. He groaned the instant the tip pressed into Silver’s ass. Curling up farther, he tried to capture Zeb’s tongue and his dick.

  “Fuck,” Zeb whispered. His muscles trembled under Silver’s palms. “Feel good on me.”

  Silver smiled into the kiss, earning a quick bite of his lower lip.

  “Behave.” Zeb’s words were breathy. “I’m concentrating.”

  “It’s not calculus.” The in-between was a little uncomfortable, the way Zeb’s dick got wider halfway down.

  “You’re not the only one who’s trying to save up some memories,” Zeb answered through gritted teeth.

  Save them for what?

  Silver might have asked it out loud, but then Zeb drove all the way in, a solid, warm shock against Silver’s gland, a burn and ache from the stretch. Zeb stayed deep for a breath, kissing Silver with a firm, possessive mouth that made him want to ask for so much more than Zeb’s cock to fill his body.

  Silver moved first, and Zeb matched him, working them together. The friction turned from pain to the perfect stretch, nerves pulsing in an endless loop of pleasure.

  Zeb gasped in his ear, and it felt like it could have come from Silver’s throat, their bodies in complete sync.

  Zeb clutched Silver’s thighs, lifting his ass, then lowered his calves so they rested on Zeb’s shoulders. It forced Silver tighter, pushed Zeb deeper, his constant stroke making Silver’s dick pulse.

  Zeb leaned down, eyes so intense it added to the shiver in Silver’s belly. He reached for his dick. Zeb grabbed the headboard and nailed Silver to the mattress. There wasn’t any other way to say it. And everything he’d promised himself about knowing it could be the last time and trying to last vanished in his need to come right the fuck now.

  “Yeah, Jordie. Come for me.”

  Like he could stop. One more thrust, the right stroke on his dick, and it burst loose, hot and sharp, ripped from where their cocks seemed to connect on the downstroke. Then a bolt of it through his dick, pulsing from base to tip, jizz scalding where it landed on his skin.

  “God, yes.” Zeb’s eyes fluttered closed, hips slamming forward over and over. “Love you, Jordan. God, I love you.”

  The satisfaction drifting on the chemicals in Silver’s blood turned from sweet to bitter. It wasn’t the first time a guy had had said I love you when he came. And as usual, the guy wasn’t really talking to him.

  Zeb had collapsed with his forehead on Silver’s shoulder. Silver pushed at him. “Mmph.”

  God, had Zeb fallen asleep? Silver cranked his neck and squinted, glimpsing an eye through a mess of tangled hair.

  Zeb made another noise, a happy sigh. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Silver said back.

  “Give me a second while I remember how to move.” Zeb’s lips brushed Silver’s chest.

  “Nah.” Separating didn’t seem so important anymore. After all, wasn’t that the whole point of being here, to spend this last night with Zeb?

  His body on Silver’s was warm and solid, matching the pulse of Zeb’s cock still in Silver’s ass. Instead of a weight pinning him down, Zeb anchored him. Anchored them both right here. Even if it was only for a night.

  SILVER WOKE up cursing his bladder. He tried to drift back into sleep, but the insistent fullness dragged him awake. Easing out from under Zeb, Silver staggered into the bathroom.

  The annoying toiletry bag on the sink forced him to be more awake than his need to piss had.

  He could look in it. See if Zeb had packed condoms. But that wasn’t the kind of boyfriend he wanted to be. And he really did want to be a boyfriend. Wanted it even knowing how much risk, how much pain it could bring. He wanted it with the same intensity of the clueless teenager he’d been the first time.

  It was dark now, but the hall light shined into the bedroom, a wide parallelogram of it on Zeb, like a spotlight. He was about to join him in it, when he saw the condom on Zeb’s thigh. On his way back from flushing it, he noticed the sliding doors of the open closet. Looking to see what was still here wasn’t like checking for condoms in a zippered bag. He stared in.

  A few pairs of dress pants, shirts and ties, and a lot of empty space. Like the one in his gut when he thought about Zeb being gone. He’d been on his own for years. Why the hell should it matter so much now?

  “Silver?”

  He’d wondered if Zeb was going to go back to calling him Jordan. “What are you doing?” Zeb asked.

  “Nothing.” Silver climbed back into the bed.

  Zeb pulled Silver into warm skin. The contrast made him shiver. “I’m coming back.”

  Silver nodded against Zeb’s chest. “It’s only six weeks.”

  WITH A ten-hour drive ahead of him, Zeb wanted to be on the road by seven. At six forty-five, they sat in front of Quinn’s house.

  “I’ll text you when I hear what the judge says. Or I guess if I’m in jail, Eli will.” Silver unlatched his door.

  “Silver.”

  He turned back.

  “I feel like—” Zeb scraped a hand over his jaw. “Is there something else I’m supposed to say?”

  “No.”

  And it wasn’t a lie. Zeb had to go. Silver had a test to study for. A judge to please.

  And Marco to worry about. It was just the way things were.

  Silver leaned over and gave Zeb a quick kiss. “See you in six weeks.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “YOU GET a week to go all emo,” Eli announced when he came downstairs.

  “Fuck you.” Silver had baked some french toast. Mostly because he was bored standing in the kitchen at quarter of seven with nothing to do.

  “I take it back. If you’re going to make breakfast, you can mope all you want. I hate cooking breakfast.”

  “Fuck you sideways.”

  “Mmm. Sounds good to me.” Eli grabbed a cup of coffee. “By the way, we had a little excitement last night.”

  Marco slid into the kitchen in his bare feet. “Timo showed up outside my class yesterday.”

  “Shit. What did he do?”

  “Made an ass of himself,” Eli said.

  “He asked if I was tired of having to get fucked to have a place to sleep.”

  “Did you call security?”

  “No.”

  “Marco, you don’t know what Timo might—oh fuck.”

  Quinn came into the kitchen with a purple circle under his eye.

  “Quinn was with me,” Marco said, grinning, like Eli’s boyfriend didn’t have an ugly black eye.

  Eli started, but the three of them talked at once. “I was meeting Nate to do a shoot on some program the college was doing and—”

  “He got way worse than this.” Quinn pointed to his eye.

  “Quinn walked me to class, and Timo was there.”

  Silver sank into a chair. “Please tell me no one got arrested.”

  Quinn shook his head. “No one saw.”

  Marco chirped, “Quinn took him aside. The bathroom. Then he fucked him up.”

  Quinn winced. “The important thing is he won’t be back.”

  Eli was practically vibrating as he tried to pretend he was okay with what had happened.

&n
bsp; Silver glanced at Quinn’s scraped and swollen knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? My brother is a—a—asshole.” Marco landed on the right insult. He smiled. “Now he’s a bloody asshole.” His brows drew together. “I mean bruised.” His cheeks got pink. “I mean—” He shook his head. “Oh, but Timo swung first,” he added like he’d been prepped for the witness stand.

  “What if he decides to press charges?” Silver looked at Quinn, who shrugged.

  “He won’t.” Marco sounded positive. “He has a record.”

  Silver’s appetite for french toast shriveled like a ninety-year-old’s balls. He couldn’t stay there anymore, looking at Quinn’s bruises. Quinn, who was the calmest person Silver knew, involved in a fist fight in a bathroom. A fist fight he wouldn’t have been in if Silver hadn’t dragged him into this. “I need to head downtown for something.”

  Eli gave him a narrow-eyed stare through bangs.

  “I’ll take my pill and grab something to eat on the way.”

  “One week.”

  “Yeah. I got it.”

  Silver started in the direction of the bus stop, but he was only walking to burn off the urge to scream. He was a magnet for shit. And now it was splattering on his friends.

  How the hell could families act like this? Turn their backs on their own kids, get violent with their own kids because of who they fucked? It was such shit. Silver was tired of it.

  He wasn’t the only one. Quinn didn’t know Marco, but he was willing to stand up for him. Gavin too, in his way.

  Maybe things wouldn’t have gone down like they did if Gavin’s shelter had been there for Silver. Or Marco. Silver stopped walking. If he was so sick of this shit happening, maybe Silver owed it not just to whoever came next but to himself to make sure Gavin’s idea happened.

  If the shelter did it right, kids would have a place to go. A place to feel safe. But it could just as easily go wrong. Kids like the ones he’d hung out with off Eutaw Street would never trust it. Eddie and his butterfly knife wouldn’t trust some social worker with a bunch of forms.