Tartan Candy

by KC Burn

  Loss and disappointment swirled inside him, even as the possibility of extrapolating the romance writers’ event into something that resembled a job buoyed his mood. But Beck and Tyler weren’t right for the new business, nor was Gregor, and definitely not the new guy, Javier. This job required trust, at the very least, and preferably someone Raven could be comfortable with—while wearing clothes. Raven didn’t know if his sudden reluctance to involve some of his costars in the coming weekend gig came from jealousy or envy or some underlying sense that they wouldn’t approach the job with a mindset that would be compatible with Raven’s.

  “See you guys later.” Raven turned away, not thinking they’d even notice or hear, but Stefan leaped up and followed him out into the hall. A discreet glance revealed Stefan had certainly enjoyed the show, but he hadn’t been caught up in it. Made sense, really. The head of a porn studio couldn’t lose all sense and awareness at the sight of two hot guys fucking. Not if he intended to stay in business, and Stefan’s primary concern was almost always the business.

  “Hey, how’d the ‘date’ go?”

  Raven stared at Stefan, wondering how the fuck he knew about Caleb and how foolish Raven had been over a weird, instantaneous attraction for a complete stranger, before he realized Stefan was asking about how things had gone with Jeremy.

  The reunion weekend had seemed to last for-fucking-ever, but somehow, Jeremy had faded into his memory, sharp edges smoothed over with the patina of time. It was Caleb who remained sharp and clear in his mind, almost painfully brilliant.

  He’d rather not remember Jeremy, but the alternative would be to admit to Stefan how fucked up Raven’s head had become. “Shit. Asshole expected sex as part of the deal.”

  Stefan rolled his eyes. “That sneaky fucker. He knew damn well that wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “Well, he thought he’d renegotiate terms. I think if he wasn’t so afraid of getting his account cut off, he wouldn’t have paid the whole fee.” Raven pressed his lips together, the trill of remembered fear even less welcome than his fucked-up interaction with Caleb. At least the rest of Jeremy’s payment had shown up in his account this morning. Now he never had to think about it again.

  Stefan, though, wasn’t stupid, and he easily read between Raven’s intentionally vague lines. “Are you okay? He didn’t do anything I need to cut his account off for? Cut off other things too?”

  Raven’s smile was rueful. “No. I can still handle myself.” Even if it hurt a little more, because his body didn’t move in the same way it had before the accident. He’d have put up with a lot more pain to keep Jeremy from taking something Raven wasn’t willing to give.

  “You heading in to see Will?”

  This time, Raven’s smile came easier. Will had been one of the few friends from the studio he didn’t feel conflicted about, although it had been a while since he’d accepted one of Will’s invitations to hang out. “Yeah. Right now.”

  “Tell him to fuck with Jeremy’s account. Nothing major, but something. Gotta get a little payback.”

  He shouldn’t feel so pleased with Stefan’s offer, but Stefan had been good to him, both before and since the accident, and Raven respected the hell out of him.

  “Go on. Tell him I said it was okay. He’ll have an idea of something good.”

  Raven snorted. He had no doubt about that. “Thanks.” There was a wealth of meaning loaded onto that single word, beyond this simple interaction, and Stefan beamed as though he could hear it.

  “Anytime. I gotta get back in there. The new guy’s pretty good, but he needs some coaching.” Stefan clapped him on the shoulder before returning to the viewing room.

  With a slightly lighter heart, Raven headed toward the server room, located in a windowless, perfectly climate-controlled room in the center of the building.

  RAVEN KNOCKED on the server room door. For many reasons, the door was kept locked, and although he might be a trusted employee, and possible friend, he still didn’t rate unlimited access to the server room. There had been a point, before Stefan and Paul had purchased and renovated this current location, that the websites had been hosted elsewhere, but Stefan found keeping everything, aside from the off-site backup, onsite made it all easier. Will Dawson had been hired on as full-time web support about two years ago, and he even did video editing when needed.

  Will took his sweet time opening the door. Most times, he ignored the first knock, hoping whoever was knocking would go away and not bother him. Not that he was antisocial, but like a lot of programmers, he was a little socially awkward. And if he was in the middle of coding something or trying to work out a problem, interruptions could be ignored indefinitely.

  Nevertheless, Raven knocked again. Sure, he could call or text later, but he was here, he needed a distraction, and Will felt like a port in the whirling storm of his thoughts. Will was smart enough that he could easily catch up on whatever magical computer work he was doing later.

  “Come on, Will, open up.” Raven didn’t want to go back to his silent condo and wallow in how little he had to occupy his time. Getting a cat, a loud one, looked better every day. Classes didn’t start for another couple of weeks, and the only planning he needed to do was to figure out which kilt to wear next weekend or perhaps to chicken the fuck out and cancel. Meaning he’d have plenty of time to obsess over Caleb, which wouldn’t do wonders for his mental health.

  Despite what he’d told Mick, the HR manager he’d just met, maybe it wouldn’t kill him to look for a proper job. Then again, he ought to wait until after this final semester of college. Raven was ready to be done with his degree. No sense dragging it out any longer. Barista or waiter? He was a little too old for that shit, wasn’t he?

  A third knock, harder this time, didn’t seem to get any response, but then the room was quite solidly put together. Not exactly soundproofed, but close.

  “What?” The door swung open, Will’s face twisted in a scowl that immediately smoothed out. “Raven! What are you doing here?”

  Will shifted awkwardly on his feet, twitching his arms and, if Raven didn’t know better, looking guilty of something. Thing was, Raven knew exactly why Will was acting this way, and it was all his own fault. Will was a hugger, and even though Raven never had been, he’d been happy to hug Will before the accident. Afterward, he kept everyone at arm’s length—literally—but Will’s first instinct was to hug him. With all the pain meds and surgeries and physiotherapy, never mind all the mental anguish Raven had endured trying to come to grips with his sudden change in life circumstance, he’d pushed everyone away, physically and emotionally. Will and Stefan were the only ones he kept in contact with regularly, the only ones who never pried into his sex life, or lack thereof. The only ones who seemed to accept how difficult it was for him to socialize.

  He’d broken his “no touching” policy with a sledgehammer yesterday with Caleb, and he was starting to realize withdrawing from everyone he knew wasn’t healthy, not at all. He also missed Will’s uncomplicated friendship. They’d never had sex—their friendship hadn’t been like that—and Raven maybe needed that kind of friend in his life.

  “Just visiting.” Raven stood there, outside the door, Will just inside, almost like one of those weird postbreakup visits to pick up one last box of things from the ex’s place. But the last thing he wanted was for Will to be an ex-friend.

  For the first time in over a year, he opened his arms and pulled his friend into a hug. Will wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. It wasn’t the same sensation as having Caleb’s arms around him, but comfort, safety, and friendship were all there, and so welcome to the wounds on Raven’s soul.

  “I’m so glad to see you, man.” Will spoke his words into Raven’s shoulder, and when he pulled out of Raven’s arms, his eyes were suspiciously bright.

  “Me too. I’ll make sure it’s not so long next time.” He shied away from calculating exactly how long it had been since he’d just spent time with Will, hanging out, because it would only
illuminate what a shitty friend he’d been.

  Will bit his lip before he spoke again, hesitantly. “You got anywhere to be or you wanna come in and hang out for a bit?”

  Somehow, Raven contained his bitter laughter because he didn’t want to explain to Will what was so darkly amusing about his words.

  “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  Will spent a few minutes playing host, getting Raven something to drink and a few snacks. Somehow Will had finagled his own private bar fridge for the server room, avoiding having to share with the rest of the employees. Lucky bastard. If only Raven had known that when he was spending more time “in the office.” Certainly didn’t matter now.

  What had been intended to be a quick visit morphed into a few hours, and Raven found himself spilling everything about Caleb and Jeremy. So unlike him, and yet this was a new chapter of his life. Time to start acting like it.

  “That Jeremy is a total dick. I’ve had to block his comments for a couple of the guys already because he makes them uncomfortable.” Will shook his head. “Stefan said to come up with some sort of retribution, did he?”

  Will was almost rubbing his hands together like a vaudeville villain, and this time, Raven’s amusement was genuine and unadulterated. He wasn’t going to dwell on whatever Jeremy had said to make other models uncomfortable; he was just glad he wasn’t required to monitor any of his porn-related social media anymore. After the accident, he’d shut everything down with Stefan’s blessing, the only information about him still in the archives of the Idyll Fling website and blog.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Hmm… nothing too drastic. But I’m thinking maybe a daily expiration on his password or something. For the next couple of weeks. Maybe a month.”

  Raven’s lip curled. “Really? What’s that going to do?”

  “He’s a heavy user. Not quite as bad as the not-sure-how-he-gets-any-work-done type heavy user, but he’s on almost daily. It’ll piss him off having to redo his password every day.”

  Huh. That could be fitting. Not enough to truly get Jeremy worked up; Stefan wouldn’t want to lose business if he could help it.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” Raven pulled out his phone. “I have to block his numbers. He was just too… too….”

  Will nodded. “Made you uncomfortable, right? But hard to pinpoint? Like you’re being harassed but wonder if maybe you’re just being too sensitive or something?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly it. Well, until Saturday night, when he got drunk and almost didn’t take no for an answer. Hell, he kept grabbing my ass even though I repeatedly said no. But, yeah, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Not since his accident, though. Not since he wasn’t sure he could trust his body to effectively respond to either fight or flight directives, which made it a lot scarier than he’d anticipated.

  The expression on Will’s face said he wasn’t thrilled. “That’s worse than what the other guys experienced. What an asshole. I’m going to come up with something else as punishment for the next time. Not sure what, but it’s gonna be good.”

  “Thanks, man, but don’t do anything that’ll get you in shit with Stefan.” Someone had his back. It was a good, and somewhat foreign, feeling.

  “Whatever.” Will rolled his eyes and turned to tap a few keys on his keyboard.

  If only the solution for Caleb was as easy. Will hadn’t had any advice to offer on the subject, other than to not wimp out if he called. Only time would tell how Raven would end up handling it. If nothing else, if Caleb called, maybe it would dissolve the crazy tangle of nerves that had taken up residence in his stomach.

  “Shit, it’s gotten late. I should let you go back to work.”

  “Do you want to… hang out this weekend?” Will hadn’t asked him to hang out in a while, and for a change, Raven wanted to say yes. Badly wanted to say yes.

  “I can’t. I have this thing.” He hadn’t told Will about his romance gig, but… lightning struck in the form of a really fucking good idea. “But maybe you can hang out with me there.”

  Will looked confused, and Raven quickly outlined the event he was getting paid to attend on the weekend.

  The look of confusion had disappeared, but aside from a brief flash of initial interest, Raven could hardly say Will looked enthused. In fact, he looked… wary. Unexpected disappointment welled up, bitter and hot, but Raven didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. He should have realized Will’s offer to hang out had been simply an empty offer, one Will hadn’t expected Raven to accept.

  “Hey. No worries. I’ll find someone else.” Not that he had any idea how he’d manage that. “I’ll… I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Raven turned to go, but Will grabbed his arm, and he turned back.

  “What?”

  Will’s gaze skittered around the room before landing on Raven’s shoulder. “I’m just not… like the models, you know. I’m not… built. So, maybe they’d be a better choice.”

  The wave of relief was swamped by the realization that Will was self-conscious. Raven tried to think back, and he wasn’t sure he remembered anyone besides him hanging out with Will in the server room regularly. But he genuinely enjoyed Will’s company, and he should have realized earlier how much he missed it, realized Will’s friendship didn’t have anything to do with him spreading his legs on film.

  Apparently the accident had affected his psyche even more than he’d been aware, but the blinders were off, and he spoke from the heart.

  “Let’s start with the most important issue. We’re going to be there for hours, and there’s no one I’d rather spend that much time with. You’re—” Raven bit back a gasp at the simultaneous sad and welcome notion. “You’re my best friend.”

  Will’s eyes glittered and he dropped his gaze before taking a couple of deep breaths. “I… I wanted to be there to help. And you wouldn’t let me.”

  When Will lifted his head, Raven had no trouble reading the hurt in his shiny eyes. “I’m sorry, Will. I wish I hadn’t been so hardheaded. I thought I had to do it all on my own, like I’ve done everything else in my life, and I kept thinking offers of help were nothing more than empty platitudes.”

  Lips curling in a sad little smile, Will shrugged. “Maybe some of them were. Not mine.”

  “I know. I was an idiot.” More so than Will probably realized. Raven didn’t want to remember those hard, painful days after the accident, days when he wondered if it was worth fighting to go on. Maybe if he’d let more people in his life, the fight wouldn’t have been so daunting.

  “Yes. You were.” Will’s smile became brighter. “Does this mean you’ll actually accept one of my invitations one of these days?”

  They’d gone light-years past their original discussion, only to come back to the issue of weekend plans.

  “Does this mean you’ll do the kilt gig with me? I meant it—I think we could have fun with it.”

  Raven didn’t get a resounding affirmative, as he’d expected.

  “I don’t know. I’m not as good-looking as you.”

  “Bullshit. You’re maybe not as flamboyant about it, but you’re every bit as good-looking. And I bet you’d look great in a dress shirt.” Right now Will was dressed in cargo pants and a baggy, rumpled T-shirt, giving lie to the idea that every gay man had impeccable fashion sense. Then again, Will spent his work hours on his own in the server room and spent a good chunk of his spare time playing video games and designing obscure apps.

  Will was a few inches shorter than Raven, and broader, but his shoulders were well proportioned, and Raven couldn’t see any obvious fat, but then again, Raven wouldn’t care a bit either way. Will was his friend, not a fashion model, and Raven wanted to spend time with his friend.

  “But I’m not buff, either.”

  “I think you look awesome. But if you’re concerned, it’s not like we’re stripping down or spreading for the camera. We’re there as fully dressed eye candy, and women love men in kilts. We’ll be a hit. It
doesn’t matter if you’ve got cut abs or waxed nuts or a barely there G-string tan line.” Or a tan line at all. Raven’s vampiric complexion required constant attention to avoid both freckles and burning that would do a cooked lobster proud, but Will would probably tan up nice if he ever went outside.

  Not as dark as Caleb or anything. But thinking about Caleb wasn’t going to do him any good right now.

  Will was wavering, but Raven was almost out of compelling arguments. “I can loan you a kilt. It’s not like you’d have to spend money.”

  A pink flush swept up Will’s face, and he laughed uncomfortably. “I own a kilt. That’s not the problem.”

  That information staggered Raven. “You own a kilt? Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Raven wore them almost constantly on and off set once he’d started working for Idyll Fling. At first they’d been merely an eye-catching gimmick, but he’d grown to love them, and along with his chosen stage name, they quickly became a part of his identity—his real identity, not just the one he showed to the cameras. It was strange that Will wouldn’t have once commented on that item they had in common.

  Will shrugged. “It’s kind of dorky.”

  Raven lifted an eyebrow. “Dorky? Thanks a lot.” He made sure to keep his tone teasing, because he didn’t think Will meant anything by it, and honestly, there were worse things to be.

  Letting out a shaky laugh didn’t prevent Will’s flush from getting deeper. “For me, I mean. I… uh… I do Ren faire stuff. In a kilt.”

  “Ren faire. What’s that?”

  “Renaissance faire. It’s like… we dress up in Renaissance garb, and there’s jousting and plays and tumbling. People sell stuff at booths, like handmade soap and candles, replica swords, leathers, stuff like that.”

  Leathers. That could be interesting. “Wait. Why a kilt, then? Is that the right historical period?” Raven had an image in his head of tights and robes and things, but he might also be confusing the Renaissance with the Harry Potter movies. History wasn’t his thing.