Room for Rent

by Nicole Stewart

  He raced out to the bracing cold autumn night, hurriedly climbed into his Jeep and let his head fall to the steering wheel. What was wrong with him? He could not go on like this. Craving Mason made no sense whatsoever. If anything, he should hate him for what he represented, opportunities and untapped potential and youth, things that Caleb could not get back. He should hate him. He should not be in private rooms, climaxing from the very thought of having him in his arms.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Caleb shouted, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.

  The passenger door opened, and the interior light came on. Mason stood there, staring at him. He looked embarrassed and confused, and Caleb sighed and shoved his fingers through his hair to try to get a grip on himself. “I’m sorry,” Caleb muttered. “I didn’t mean to leave you. I had to—” He clamped his lips shut. He could feel the wetness in his clothes, and he scowled. “Get in the Jeep. Let me take you home.”

  Mason got into the car and slowly pulled the seatbelt across his lap. “I wasn’t trying to—”

  “Don’t,” Caleb cut him off and cranked the truck. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Mason slumped miserably in the passenger seat, his elbow on the windowsill, his fingers at his temples.

  “I wasn’t trying to upset you. I won’t bother you again,” Mason muttered.

  “Do you know what happens to muses? The same thing that happens to prodigies,” Caleb sighed. “They get revered, and then they get forgotten. You make me want to be good to you.” He stared Mason in the eyes. “But, in the end, I’m the guy who will use you up, spit you out, and then not even remember your name.”

  The sky was overcast, and the cold wind blowing off the Atlantic promised rain. The ocean matched his mood, dark. As Riesling kicked through a pile of leaves, Mason trudged across the backyard to join her. She was under the tall tree where Caleb ordinarily parked. He was not home. The artist had avoided him in the weeks since the impromptu birthday party at the strip club.

  Mason had gone to his Wednesday night watercolor classes just to see him, noting the gradual growth in class size. Caleb pretended not to see him. Sighing, Mason shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on Riesling at play.

  “My brooding, moody writer!” She giggled and let golden, orange and brown leaves flutter from her fingers. “Leave your inner world and come join me.”

  Mason sighed. “Would you like to go on a date?”

  “What?” She twirled around and around—faster and faster—with a flounce of white blond hair that caught the pale sunlight and made her look like a figure from a fairytale. Riesling squealed with laughter as she dizzily fell into his arms. Mason smiled and steadied her.

  “A date,” he repeated, shrugging. His smile for Riesling slipped away as he recalled for the millionth time: I won’t even remember your name. He got lost in the memory of Caleb’s eyes, wondering if he remembered them right. It had been so long since those eyes had turned his way. Mason came back to reality and smiled again. “I want to take you somewhere special. You’ve been so devoted and you deserve it.”

  Riesling pushed her hair out of her face and tilted her head, smiling curiously. “Alright. Let’s see where this goes.”

  The garage doors rose for his father’s champagne Altima, and he started the car by remote as he led her around to the passenger side. Mason opened her door, trying not to remember Caleb doing the same for him. As Riesling climbed in, he leaned over her to fasten her seatbelt and caught the scent of her perfume. It was very different from the vetiver and mint of Caleb’s. He shoved that thought aside, as well.

  Mason took her to an elegant bistro and wine bar. Riesling slipped her arm through his, chatting gaily about her thesis, as a greeter took them to a table. “So, I’m very excited about how it’s all coming together,” she gushed. “My parents are confident I’ll score an internship with the news channel. Can you picture me doing the news?”

  Mason nodded. “You’ll be very successful. You’ll have so much fan mail that the Post Office will blacklist you. You have a bright future ahead of you.” Riesling’s musical laughter made him smile.

  “You do, too,” she insisted. “It’s time you gave some thought toward which company you want to work for.”

  “You sound just like my father,” he chuckled.

  She grinned as she speared an appetizer, tucking the shrimp past her red lips and chewing thoughtfully before pointing at him with her fork. “I know how you feel about your dad, but what if our parents are right?”

  “They paired us together,” Mason scoffed good-naturedly. “Remember our first kiss? I think your exact words were, ‘Not a single spark.” She looked away and grabbed her water glass.

  “‘Maybe the spark is overrated,’” she quoted him.

  “You said—”

  “I mean, think about it.” She shrugged and smiled. “You get a cushy job with your father and brother’s connections. We buy a house in Portsmouth with a white picket fence. We have two beautiful babies and a Labrador retriever. We live happily ever after.”

  “I’m picturing it. At the cushy job, I get so bored and unfulfilled that I become an alcoholic. You go through a string of affairs because I can’t satisfy you. Our children grow up in a dysfunctional household. The Labrador retriever never gets housebroken. All because you and I are too busy and important to bother with love, marriage and family. You said we might as well shake hands and part ways.”

  “But we didn’t,” she murmured. Mason’s eyebrows clashed together as he studied her. She quickly turned away. When she turned back, her smile was back in place. “Anyway, how is your writing going?”

  “I’ve taken a break from it. I’m looking for freelance work to fund a gap year. I have a potential client reviewing my credentials.”

  She sighed and threw down her napkin. “So, you’ll be away for a year? I suppose Caleb will go with you.”

  “No,” Mason said softly. “Riesling, I...are you upset?”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Why would I be? I have a surprise for you. I have a secret crush, too.” She dug her phone out of her purse and scrolled until she found the picture she wanted to show him. Mason leaned over the table and peered at the buff frat boy in the photograph. He nodded and smiled, relaxing into his chair.

  “He looks good for you.”

  “Yeah, he plays football at the university. He’s from some nothing Midwest town. My parents would kill me if they found out.”

  “For a second there, I thought—”

  “No,” she said sharply. “I’m excited about the prospect of you taking a gap year. I think you’ll be able to get the wanderlust out of your system and come back ready to start your life as a mature adult. It’ll be good for you.”

  The conversation moved on to safer topics as they finished their meal and had a final drink before heading home. Mason puzzled over Riesling’s brief flare of frustration but chalked it up to her concern he would not be around to provide a cover for her and her new boyfriend. As she hopped out of his Altima, he led her to her car, and he pulled her into a hug.

  “Don’t worry about me, friend. I’ll be here for you like you’ve been here for me. Your secret is safe,” he murmured.

  “Thank you, Mason.” She clutched him tightly and unexpectedly collected his face and kissed him. Her tongue flowed past his lips, and her fingers wove through his hair. Her body melded to his as she breathed into him with a lush moan. Mason gently unlocked her fingers from behind his neck and set her away, eyeing her warily.

  She climbed into her car before he could say anything else. He waved in confusion as she sped away. When he turned to the house, he saw his mother on the front porch, and he understood. Riesling was pretending again. The same way he pretended. The same way Caleb pretended. He wondered how long before all their pretending caught up with them.

  Chapter 7

  The library buzzed with hushed conversations. It was crowded for a weeknight. He supposed midterms were coming up and the
college set were busy preparing. He tried not to look past the bowed heads of his twelve students completing their paintings to the familiar face a table away from them.

  Caleb had been at the window to witness Riesling’s heartfelt kiss goodbye. He had seen her eyes shining with love and realized that she was the one for him. So, why was Mason following him, rekindling memories and fantasies he was trying desperately to erase?

  A simmering anger boiled beneath the surface. Mason’s constant presence made him want him desperately. Now Gregoire was telling him to keep Mason around, and Caleb’s body was screaming for him to reach out to him, while his mind pleaded for sanity.

  After the watercolor class ended, Caleb grabbed his things to leave. He almost made it to the door before his conscience caught up with him. He was being unfair. He was the one who had caught the inexperienced twenty-one-year-old up in this complicated web of desire. Mason had not asked for it. Caleb had acted on his own passions and taken things way too far.

  His shoulders slumped when warm fingers brushed his elbow. Caleb was not surprised. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said without looking back.

  “Tell me where to go.”

  “Nepal, Albania, El Salvador, Wales—anywhere but here!” Caleb said tersely. He glanced over his shoulder at Mason and dropped his hand from the door. Their fingers brushed. Caleb clutched Mason’s wrist tightly. “I wish you would just get out of my head,” he sighed.

  “Get out of mine then. Let me go,” Mason said quietly.

  Caleb exhaled and pulled him out of the door with him, knowing neither of them would walk away from the other. They walked together briskly in the cold, dark night. Mason did not ask where they were going; Caleb did not know. As they passed businesses and restaurants, their steps slowed to an aimless stroll, alternately washed in the light of streetlamps and doused in the shadows in between. Caleb let go of Mason’s wrist and held his hand. Mason didn’t resist.

  “I’ve missed you,” Caleb admitted.

  “I got a job. It’s freelance work.”

  Caleb nodded, swallowing thickly. “I guess you’re giving up your writing, then. You’ll settle down just as your parents wish.” He would have to leave soon. It would kill him to watch the gradual progression of Mason’s relationship with Riesling. He would not be able to stomach the sight of Mason giving up his dreams to live the safe, boring life the Sinclairs desired of him.

  Mason replied, “I’m saving money for a gap year abroad. I’ll write a travel blog.” Caleb’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the timid smile that crossed Mason’s face. “Between my father’s goading and your helpful advice, I came up with a plan to achieve my dreams. Now, what will you do?”

  Caleb stopped at a restaurant and gestured for him to enter. Mason lifted a brow in surprise. “Eat with me,” Caleb murmured. Mason studied his feet but nodded and walked into the restaurant where everyone would see them together. Caleb asked for a table in a corner. Mason shook his thick black hair out of his almond-shaped eyes and settled in a chair across from him.

  “Have you created your masterpiece?” he asked.

  Caleb lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Gregoire hated the Atlantic at Sunrise painting. I’m running out of options. I have no muse…unless you’ll sit for me.” Mason blushed and laughed, shaking his head.

  “I know what happens to muses.”

  Caleb reached across the table and pinched his cheek playfully. “I thought I knew, too but I can’t stop thinking about you. That sets you apart from other muses.” He grinned. Mason leaned into his palm, and the touch became a caress. Pedestrians passing the window stared at them and smiled. Caleb eased his hand away.

  “Anyway, my agent found someone who wants to represent you,” he said gruffly. “A travel blog is a great way to build your author platform. So, congratulations. I wish you success in your future endeavors.”

  Mason stared at his plate. “Am I a fool for you, Caleb?” It took him a moment to lift his eyes and meet Caleb’s gaze.

  “Yes.” Caleb ordered a drink and nursed it as he stared out the window, thinking he was as much the fool. “When I was your age, I squandered my opportunities. I gained success faster than I knew what to do with it. I didn’t get serious about my art again until I was twenty-four, and by then my education betrayed me. I became too polished, too slick. I’m telling you this because you represent the future I threw away. Don’t be foolish for me.”

  “Your future is ahead of you.”

  “It’s behind me,” Caleb murmured.

  “I’m right in front of you,” Mason replied.

  Caleb looked up. “Spoken like a writer,” he smiled ruefully. “You tell me you’re leaving to travel the world. Then, you say we have a future together.”

  Mason studied his expression. “You tell me to stay away; yet, you won’t let me go.”

  “There you have it. We’re a contradiction. Christ, I’ve never even done anything like this.” Caleb weakly gestured at the table spread before them. “Is this a date?”

  Mason did not answer. They ate dinner together, saying very little. Caleb sank deeper into his thoughts as they shared coffee when the meal was over. He walked with him back toward the library. “Your parents would kill us both,” Mason took his head wordlessly. “You know I’m right.”

  “You’re right about everything.” Mason slipped down an alley, and Caleb had no choice but to follow.

  “What are you doing? This isn’t safe.”

  Mason dragged him close. “I know.”

  Mason cupped the back of Caleb’s neck and kissed him, a fireworks show filling the darkness behind his closed eyes. They kissed like kissing was breathing. He pressed his silky tongue into the warm recess of Caleb’s mouth, and Caleb clutched his shirt and tried to pull him away but pressed him against the brick wall instead, following helplessly as his libido raged.

  “Damn it, Mason!” Caleb growled.

  “Tell me you don’t want this,” Mason challenged.

  Caleb’s arms came around him in a crushing embrace. Mason sighed into his mouth. Sharp edges and hard planes, very unlike the soft curves of a woman. Everywhere they touched cut deep with passion especially where Caleb’s erection speared against his stomach. Mason reached down and grazed it, but Caleb grabbed his hand and pushed it to the wall behind him.

  “Not this time,” Caleb spat heatedly, while cupping Mason’s crotch. “It’s my turn.”

  Mason gasped as Caleb’s mouth glided from his lips to his neck, awakening his hungry lust. Every flick of Caleb’s tongue made him harder, and his touch made him strain in search of relief. It was a sensual onslaught. Caleb’s cologne filled Mason’s nostrils, and he was sure that it was making him high.

  Mason looked down. It was a shock to see his thick shaft in Caleb’s masculine grip. His pants provided no obstacle as Caleb slowly stroked up and down, biting his bottom lip, forcing himself to keep it slow. The pleasure was rich. Mason’s head lolled back as his hips pushed forward of their own volition. He found himself thrusting into Caleb’s hand as desire swirled through him.

  “Caleb!” Mason gritted his teeth. Caleb locked eyes with him and stroked faster. Mason felt the damp spread of pre-cum in his boxers. If this was payback, it was exhilarating.

  Caleb kissed his lips again, clutching Mason’s face with both hands. Mason was glad Caleb had stopped stroking his cock but Caleb’s tongue in his mouth kept the heat turned up. They melded together, erections sandwiched between them.

  The rub and grind of bodies only stoked the flames. There was no escaping the bliss. “Why do you turn me on so fucking much?” Caleb groaned against his lips. Mason could not respond. He throbbed painfully as Caleb pressed him to the wall and rocked against him. Mason could not take it any longer. He shoved Caleb’s hand back to his manhood.

  His eyes widened with shock as he almost peaked. “Slow!” he gasped. Caleb lifted his shirt, kissing down his chest. His velvety tongue curled around a nipple. Mason sobbe
d with pleasure. Caleb sucked while his hand continued the masturbatory rhythm through his pants.

  Mason had no idea what to do. He did not want it to end, but he had no idea how much further he should let it go. Exactly where was the point of no return? Mason squeezed his eyes shut and pleaded for Caleb to stop before he climaxed. His words came out in Korean.

  Caleb fumbled with the clasp of his pants. Mason’s erection sprang free, and he was in freefall. He grabbed Caleb by the hair to pull him up just as Caleb’s trembling lips quickly closed around his pounding cock. Mason yelped. The silky kiss left his erection dripping wet as Caleb dropped to his knees and sucked harder and faster.

  “Caleb! Yes!”

  Mason slumped against the wall as Caleb’s hands and mouth worked him over with expert finesse. He pressed his palms to his eyes in awe, and his pelvis rocked. Higher and higher, he was falling up. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and clasped Caleb by the neck to hold him still as he thrust deeper into his mouth.

  Mason went at it with abandonment. He shuddered, rushing in and out as spit dripped to the pavement and Caleb moaned around him. The erotic sight was mind-blowing. Watching his cock disappear and reemerge made Mason shudder with delight. Caleb tightened his lips and stared up at him with fierce devotion.

  Mason lost control of himself. The alley filled with the sound of his stunned elation and the slippery glide of oral sex and Caleb’s greedy moans for more. Caleb gripped Mason’s ass and tilted his head to swirl his mouth around his thick, rigid shaft as spit dribbled to his balls. Caleb’s tongue chased the trail, and he took a testicle into his mouth.

  “Ah!” Mason clutched himself to keep from coming, but his manhood jerked in his grasp. He squeezed the base and squared his jaw, eyes tightly shut, while Caleb laved and sucked his balls. “You’ll make me…I’m trying not to,” he whispered hoarsely. Caleb worshipfully licked his way back to the tip of his erection, and Mason exhaled a shaky moan. Caleb suddenly swallowed every inch of him. Mason cried out.