Tartan Candy

by KC Burn

  The brief conversation eased his mind a bit but didn’t make their current situation any more palatable.

  “We should go out sometime, all of us.” Raven said.

  Later, though. Sometime when he and Caleb weren’t so new, so fragile. Francesca gave his hand a little squeeze.

  “You’re a good man for doing this, you know. It has to be hard to pretend.”

  Harder than he’d ever imagined. He’d been a fucking idiot when he’d agreed to this, because not touching Caleb, not being able to stamp him as property of Raven stabbed him like a thousand needles to the heart.

  “I’m not good. I hate this,” Raven whispered.

  “Stay strong. I have faith things will work out.”

  The comfort in her words was negligible, but he appreciated her support.

  Francesca leaned back in her chair, an inscrutable expression on her face, as the rest of their table dribbled back with plates piled high.

  Jaime cast a discerning eye over Raven’s meager meal—the man was too smart for his own good—but thankfully didn’t say anything. Otherwise, Raven would be forced to ask why Jaime camped his behavior into queen territory when he was around his family. Raven had spent enough time with the cousins to know that Jaime’s over-the-top gayness and Caleb’s stuck-up stiffness were sides of both that he’d never seen and could only conclude it had something to do with being around family. Probably a result of both of them trying to hide Caleb’s secret. He’d have no qualms about asking if Jaime put him on the spot about anything.

  Yet another well-wisher approached the table—for Francesca—with a wink that wasn’t nearly as subtle as she probably intended. Fuck. He might not hate Francesca, but his empty stomach churned and his eyes burned.

  “I’m just going to go find a restroom.”

  Raven hopped up before Jaime could ask any concerned questions, and he walked swiftly through the tables, head held high. If anyone suspected how morose he was, it would likely ruin the charade, and he didn’t want to do that to Caleb. He might not have had much interaction with closeted men—aside from a number of comments when he’d blogged for Idyll Fling—but he knew damn well that no one should out them if they weren’t ready.

  At least Caleb was out with everyone but his family. They didn’t have to spend all their time hidden away, and Caleb didn’t mind PDAs. He was halfway there, really.

  Raven stumbled into the bathroom, but he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in hours—he certainly didn’t need to piss. What he really wanted was to splash some cold water on his face, but his eyeliner wouldn’t stand for that sort of behavior.

  Instead, he turned on the tap, ran cool water over his wrists, and forced himself to breathe deep and slow, like he was trying to stave off a panic attack. After a minute or so, his composure—or a reasonable facsimile—returned. He didn’t care what activities were planned for after dinner; as soon as dinner was done, he’d make his excuses and call a cab, because he was sure Jaime would want to stay longer with his family.

  With hands dried and no evidence of his distress on his face, Raven took a deep breath and headed out into the hallway, only to run into Caleb.

  “Oh.”

  Caleb gripped him by the shoulders, and Raven didn’t have the strength to pull away.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Caleb let his head fall forward, leaving only a tiny space between their foreheads. “Losing my mind,” Caleb whispered, their mouths close enough that his breath ghosted over Raven’s lips.

  Then there was no room between them at all as Caleb devoured his mouth, tasting faintly of beer. Raven moaned and ravished Caleb’s mouth in return. In seconds, their chests were heaving, and Raven was seconds away from flipping up his kilt to let Caleb have his way. The erection pressed into his thigh told him Caleb wouldn’t put up any argument at all.

  A clatter of dropped dishes startled them, and Caleb sprang away, looking around, but the sound must have traveled from the kitchen, because there wasn’t a soul in the hallway besides the two of them.

  Realization of what they’d just done, mere feet from Caleb’s family, had Raven stepping back, pulse still racing and hard cock pushing against the shield of his sporran.

  “We can’t.”

  Caleb looked ferocious, lustful, and determined, something that would have panicked Raven if he’d seen it on any other man, but on Caleb it only made him feel wanted and cherished.

  “Come here.” Caleb dragged him to an inconspicuous door, opened it, and pulled him inside. It was a utility closet filled with cleaning supplies, and just enough empty wall space for Caleb to push Raven up against it.

  He ran his hands up and down Raven’s arms. “This is killing me, not touching you. Every time someone speculated about you being Jaime’s boyfriend, I wanted to punch him in the face. And you look so damned edible in this kilt, I’ve been hard since I laid eyes on you.”

  Shivers raced up his spine. He knew Caleb wasn’t a violent sort and didn’t really mean it, but it was kind of hot knowing he wasn’t the only one pained by this situation. But in this case, pain shared didn’t mean pain halved, not by any stretch.

  “Every time people talk about you and Francesca, I want to tattoo your ass with my name.”

  Caleb laughed and groaned at the same time. “You know we’re just friends, right?”

  Raven nodded, but that didn’t make the marriage talk any easier to stomach.

  “I need this. It’s been too long.”

  Raven opened his mouth to ask what Caleb needed, but the mouth at his neck answered his question. It had been too damn long. Raven didn’t think he’d ever been this horny in his life. He certainly had never been revved up so fast in his life. The light kisses and nibbles belied the frantic way Caleb rubbed at his chest, seeking Raven’s super sensitive nips.

  As soon as he found them, Raven groaned. The friction of the high-quality cotton added a bit of roughness to the caress, definitely in keeping with this frantic gotta-have-you-now encounter, and it was so fucking hot.

  “Caleb. We can’t.” Raven didn’t know where he found the ability to say the words, but in direct contradiction to those sensible, prudent words, he twisted his sporran to the side, dug his fingers into one exceptionally fine ass, and ground against Caleb’s groin.

  “We have to. I can’t….” Caleb didn’t finish his sentence, and before Raven could muster up another objection, Caleb dropped to his knees, ducked under Raven’s kilt, and enveloped Raven’s hard cock in his mouth.

  “Oh fuck,” Raven whimpered. Caleb was so very talented at this, and Raven suspected it had a lot to do with the feelings they had for each other magnifying all those exquisite sensations.

  Caleb sucked and licked and worshiped like he couldn’t live without Raven’s dick, and Raven wondered how he’d gone this long without experiencing sex with someone he loved. Colors were brighter, smells more delicious, and sounds more musical.

  Raven glanced down, the moving bump under his kilt so deliciously naughty in a brand-new way. As much as Idyll Fling had supported his kilt habit, he sure didn’t spend a lot of time in them while on screen. This was decadent, and risky, and so fucking good.

  Caleb’s arm began moving in a familiar rhythm, and as much as Raven wanted to watch Caleb stroke his meat while sucking him off, practically in public, just the knowledge of what he was doing brought Raven’s balls tight to his body in preparation for a mind-blowing orgasm.

  “Oh, God, Caleb. Close.”

  Caleb shuddered and moaned, vibrating along his mouthful of dick, and the knowledge that Caleb was shooting his load on the floor between them pushed Raven over the edge. Coming so hard he had to bite down on his hand to hold in a shout, Raven dumped his come down Caleb’s throat, muscles twitching helplessly while Caleb swallowed him down.

  When Raven could breathe again, he braced most of his weight against the wall and dropped his gaze. Caleb had already tucked himself away, but continued to kneel, red-faced, swea
ty, lips shiny and hair delightfully disheveled.

  “You’re insane.” Raven couldn’t put any heat in the words. Not while his spine was still rubbery from his orgasm.

  “You’re delicious.” Caleb’s teasing response would have evoked a response in his cock, if it had been at any other time. Right now, though, he was too sated.

  Raven helped Caleb to his feet and tried to finger-comb his hair into some semblance of order. A suspicious mind would wonder what he’d been up to, but Raven didn’t think there were too many of those in the family. Not when they were so set on seeing Caleb and Francesca together.

  Swiping a drop of jizz off Caleb’s chin with a thumb, Raven chuckled. “I love you so much.”

  Caleb’s eyes widened, and Raven froze. What the hell had been thinking, letting that slip out?

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s too fast, and too….” Oh, God. He’d said those very important words for the first time in a janitor’s closet after Caleb had sucked him off. Could he be any more pathetic? “I’m not good at this.”

  “Raven, I love you too.”

  He was having a stroke. Or a heart attack. He was definitely hearing things.

  “What? You can’t possibly. This is the least romantic place.” Raven could have said something in bed on their anniversary, but he hadn’t.

  “I don’t care about the place. I don’t care if it’s fast—remember? We’re making our own rules as we go along. That means we do what feels right, and this feels right.”

  This time, Raven touched Caleb’s face simply for the sake of connection. “You love me?” He almost couldn’t believe it, but he wanted to. And Caleb’s actions, even from day one, had shown him how much Caleb cared.

  The laugh took him by surprise, but he’d never been so happy. Caleb dropped a light kiss on his lips and straightened his sporran for him.

  “You’ve been gone longer than I have. You’d better go first. I have to stop in the bathroom. Wash my hands.”

  Their awkward situation returned, but knowing Caleb loved him was going to give him the strength to make it through.

  There wasn’t anyone in the hall, but when Raven returned to the banquet room, he discovered they’d missed dessert. People were already milling around again, cups of coffee in hand, and a DJ was setting up along the far wall.

  The table he’d been sitting at was empty, and Raven scanned the room, searching for Jaime. Who appeared in front of him out of nowhere, making him jump.

  Jaime scanned him up and down before rolling his eyes. “Really? You guys couldn’t wait?”

  There was no stopping the blush. He just hoped no one else in the family was as astute as Jaime. This was a good time to consider making his escape.

  “Raven! What are you doing here?”

  Raven’s eyes widened as he whirled around. “Paolo?” Oh holy fucking hell. Paolo Escobar. The events manager from his first Tartan Candy gig, and the man responsible for a good number of subsequent and future bookings. He’d never put two and two together, because Caleb’s last name was Sanderson. But Jaime’s last name was Escobar. “Uh, you’re part of the family, are you?”

  “I am. No need to get into the specifics—makes my head spin.” Paolo glanced at Jaime, who’d stepped up beside Raven, and grinned. “Here with Jaime, are you? He’s a good man. If I’d known he was interested in settling down, I’d have introduced you.”

  Raven smiled back. Even if Paolo thought he was here with the wrong cousin, the unwavering support—and confirmation none of his future livelihood was in jeopardy—was welcome and appreciated.

  They chatted for a moment before Paolo moved on, but Raven couldn’t relax. The encounter only drove home just how precarious Caleb’s situation was. What if Raven had said something he shouldn’t have at any of the events he’d worked since meeting Caleb? What if Will had? The amount of energy hiding took was almost overwhelming, and he didn’t know why more guys in the closet didn’t simply crack from the strain of all the lying and hiding, never quite able to take a deep breath, never knowing where and when the next pitfall would occur.

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  RAVEN COULDN’T keep his gaze from flickering to the doorway, waiting pathetically for Caleb to return. He’d been gone a long time considering he’d just been washing his hands, but perhaps he’d been waylaid by another family member.

  “Are you sticking around for the dancing?” Jaime asked, and Raven shrugged.

  “Dunno. I’m a little tired.” He wasn’t lying. The emotional roller coaster of the day had taken its toll, and he’d probably spend the whole time making comparisons to the last time he’d gone to a club with Caleb. There’d be none of that dancing here, even if he thought his hip would be up for it today.

  Caleb chose that moment to stride back into the room, and Raven could tell immediately that he was angry. Furious, even. The only time Raven had seen him with that particular expression, he’d come close to beating up Jeremy.

  Which didn’t explain why he zeroed in on Raven and headed straight for him. Or for Jaime; it wasn’t quite clear.

  Or it wasn’t until he grabbed Raven’s bicep hard enough to sting.

  “Can I speak to you in private?” Caleb’s whispered words were full of venom, and Raven’s stomach plummeted into his boots.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jaime, ever the protector. But getting Jaime involved was only going to cause a scene, and Raven didn’t want to make any trouble for Caleb, even if he was currently too angry to realize that his actions were going to draw unwanted attention.

  “Stay out of this, Jaime. It doesn’t concern you.” Caleb’s voice rose just a bit. Raven had to act quickly, even if he didn’t know what had happened to explain the drastic change between the mischievous sex fiend of fifteen minutes ago and the darkly furious man standing before him.

  “Lead the way.” Raven took care to make his tone conciliatory. He didn’t think Caleb was the sort to get violent, so he wasn’t worried about that, but whatever bug had climbed up his ass was going to need privacy to resolve, if only so no one suspected how well they knew each other.

  Caleb didn’t say another word, and neither did he lead Raven anywhere, but instead steered him by the arm out of the banquet room, much like a bouncer kicking out an undesirable.

  The hallway was no longer empty, and Caleb huffed before urging Raven outside onto the porch. As yet, no one had migrated outside, but Caleb walked them down to the far end of the porch before stopping.

  Raven wrenched his arm out of Caleb’s grip; he didn’t much care for being manhandled in this particular manner.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” He didn’t want to make things worse, but he wasn’t sure their exit had gone unnoticed. God knew, Jaime’s mom wasn’t particularly thrilled with him, and Raven had caught her staring at him a number of times.

  “While I was in the bathroom, I got a very interesting text from Jeremy.” Caleb slammed a fist on the wooden railing.

  What the fuck? “Jeremy? How did he get your number?”

  Caleb shrugged. “It was my work number. Probably got it off my truck after our run-in. Not important.”

  Still, Raven didn’t think there was anything Jeremy… oh, God. There was one very critical secret Jeremy could spill that would ruin everything.

  He held his breath while Caleb angrily pulled out his phone and brandished it at him. It took him a moment to focus because Caleb’s hands weren’t exactly steady, but the video that played was definitely him getting tag teamed, a cock at each end, in one of the last movies he’d made for Idyll Fling before the accident.

  Raven’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as he concentrated on not puking, for real this time. He swallowed heavily.

  “Well? It took me several minutes and some frantic Google searches before I determined it wasn’t fake or some ill-advised sex tape posted online by a pissed-off ex. But it was neither of those things, was it? You told me you were a model, for fuck’s sake. Not a goddamn porn star. For some
shady outfit called Idyll Fling. You lied. Outright lied. I… fell for a fucking lie.” Caleb’s words cut almost as deeply as the hatred in his voice, but Raven loved Caleb, and he needed to fix this if he could.

  “I didn’t lie about everything. Not even really about that. We do call ourselves models.”

  Caleb’s disgusted snort told him he’d taken the wrong tactic.

  “But everything else was true. I’m not a lie. I just wasn’t ready to tell you everything yet. I wasn’t going to keep it secret forever.” As much as he’d enjoyed pretending, for a short while, that everything was perfect.

  “Really? When were you going to tell me? The next time an unhappy… fan… popped out of the woodwork? How many of these things are out there? How many people have seen more of your body than I have? Do I need to get tested?”

  The words ripped apart his insides like he’d swallowed broken glass. Raven didn’t know how it was possible to carry so much pain inside. His growing anger with Caleb’s attitude was the only thing keeping him on his feet and the tears burning in his eyes from falling.

  “Let me tell you something.”

  “What, how you need at least two men fucking you for you to be satisfied?”

  Anger rose up, nearly choking him. “You shut the hell up and listen to me.”

  Caleb still refused to meet his eyes, but he pressed his lips together and gestured curtly with his hand.

  “I was out and proud in high school, and because of it, I was bullied incessantly, pushed, shoved, beat up on a regular basis. I didn’t grow into my looks until shortly before I turned eighteen, and by then, no one could see past the gangly, awkward, weird, gay kid I’d been. The teachers pretended they didn’t see the bullying, and my mother didn’t give a shit. I was a burden to her. A few days before I graduated high school, I turned eighteen. I came home to find a duffel bag with my stuff on the porch and house keys that no longer worked in the lock.”

  Maybe Caleb would see the omission of these facts as lies too. Raven couldn’t bear to look at the man he loved, not when all traces of tenderness had been wiped from his expression.