by Mason Lee
He was still naked and wet when he reached for the cell phone and saw Riley's reply.
“I miss you too. I wanted to apologize for being an asshole the last time. It's a lot. I get it. Just because I'm out doesn't mean everyone is. I would rather be friends with you than nothing though. I like talking to you and I still need your help there.”
Brent remembered more than once that women had told him when they broke up that they would still like to be friends. It was a brush-off. It was a way to leave without leaving any scars. It was definitely not something that you said to someone that you wanted to keep as a lover; at least it hadn't been in Brent's experience. He'd heard the expression lately “friends with benefits” and he wondered if perhaps Riley meant that instead. After all of his indignation and all of the kissing, could he really just want a fuck buddy?
Brent knew that he couldn't say no to either meaning, not now. He wanted the man but there was something else. He had said it out loud in the car after cumming in Riley's hand and moaning into his open mouth.
Just because he married didn't mean that he couldn't be in love with Riley O'Neil.
Chapter 11
Brent had gone along with the whole ‘let’s be friends’ idea and, since Riley had been back, they had actually been friendly. Riley would smile and nod in the morning as he passed Brent's cubicle, saying, “Hey, how's it going?”
Brent would nod back and answer, “Good, how about you?” They were nothing but co-workers and there hadn't been one moment of touching or even a hint of a kiss and Brent had told himself again and again that this was how it should be. His boss shouldn't be making eyes at him and Brent, as a married man and a professional, should prefer it this way.
He had even told Doug in one of his messages, “I've decided that you are right. A relationship at work is a terrible idea, especially when they're looking to fire people right now. I am going to start looking for another job but I don't want to have to look for one because I'm unemployed. I might not have the best marriage in the world but I know that I'm lucky because my wife is a sweetheart. I hope that you and Zach get to have the same kind of happiness once you're married.” He didn't leave it open for more questions; he was tired of dredging up the past. Doug probably was a good guy. He was sure that Zach had seen all the sweet, loving attributes that Brent would have loved to experience years ago. It was over and it was all for the best.
It was killing him to pretend that Riley didn't bother him though, and he had brushed up his resume by the end of the week and Friday morning, he finally sent it out to two companies. He'd kept his promise. Riley didn't really need him anyway; it had just been a convenient way to spend time with Brent as he tried to seduce him. The shitty thing was that it had worked.
It was almost one o'clock in the morning on Saturday and Brent was taking his time in the den. He was back to watching movies in the shadows. He didn't trust his imagination anymore and he had found something new that seemed to work every time. The two men in the video would begin with kissing and after a few minutes, the hunk on top would turn his body and present the younger, thinner boy on the bottom with his ass. The camera zoomed in and Brent watched as the boy rimmed him, slathering his anus with his tongue, circling it gently and then plunging his tongue in deeply. The man always tossed his head back in pure ecstasy. He couldn't help but spread his cheeks wide for the boy and soon he rocked back and forth letting the boy fuck him slow and deep with his mouth. Brent still hadn't decided which one he would rather be and sometimes it would take an hour before he blew his load. He didn't care; he had nothing but time on his hands.
His phone buzzed when he was still stroking his dick. He had lubed up very well and his erection was slipping back and forth in his hand. Brent could have cum easily but he was making himself wait. No one he knew was up at this hour; he went back to his movie. The larger man was about to finger the boy below him and watching it always made his prostate hum deep inside.
The phone buzzed again and Brent groaned. He couldn't believe that someone, probably a wrong number, would interrupt him when he was in such need. He wiped his sticky hand off on the towel he'd tucked under a cushion and ran his finger across the screen. Riley was calling him.
What perfectly, awful timing. Brent was on the verge of exploding and he was still licking his wounds as he slowly discovered that Riley's idea of friendship did not include no-strings sex, it barely included greetings.
“Hello?” Brent answered quietly; he did not need to wake up Suzanne and start a whole new problem where none existed.
“Hey, buddy, sorry to call so late,” Riley sounded as if he'd been drinking and there were sounds of traffic in the background. He must be outside. “There was just no one else to call. I've locked myself out,” he chuckled to himself, “I'm an idiot. I've locked myself out of my apartment and when I went to call a cab, I figured out that I left my wallet at the bar.”
“You need a ride somewhere?” Brent's dick was so hard; how could he possibly stuff it into pants right now.
Riley cleared his throat. “Would you? If I could just go back to the bar, I can get a cab. My spare keys are at the office, lot of good they do me there…” He sounded more than drunk. Maybe a little sad. Maybe he secretly missed Brent too.
That was more than enough. Brent asked, “Where are you?” He knew that regardless of what it looked like, Riley could say that they were just friends but he'd thought of Brent in the middle of the night. That had to mean something.
“Let me see,” Riley was probably looking for street signs, “I'm at the corner of Wellington and 45th Street. Do you have any idea where that is?”
Brent knew it well, and answered, “Yeah, I'll be there in twenty minutes.” It wasn't the best neighborhood. It was pretty run down and was known for its odd mix of gangbangers and prostitutes. “Don't talk to anybody,” Brent said, suddenly feeling protective of his friend.
During the car ride, Brent couldn't decide if he was more glad or frustrated that Riley had called. Didn't it mean that there was no one else that he was close to here? That should be a compliment. It meant that he cared. On the other hand, calling someone in the middle of the night was definitely a sign of friendship and Brent still hated that he'd lost his status as lover.
He pulled up at the corner and peered outside, looking for Riley. The blonde’s hair was wet and plastered to his head; he barely recognized him. Brent lowered the window and said, “Hey, come on,” He beckoned and when Riley sat in the passenger seat, he asked, “What happened?”
“Fuck, don't ask,” Riley groaned, holding his head in his hand like he didn't want to face Brent. “I'm so sorry about this. I just couldn't think of anyone else.”
Brent hardly thought of anyone else either, so now Riley knew how he felt.
“The bar is probably half a mile, back that way,” Riley pointed behind them and Brent made a U-turn and followed his directions.
Riley's hair was a mess and his shirt was completely open. His chest was visible and Brent swallowed hard, remembering what it felt like to feel that chest pressed against his own.
“What were you doing out here? This is a bad neighborhood,” Brent said. It wasn't the kind of place that he pictured Riley frequenting.
“Well, now you tell me,” Riley tried to joke, giving him half a smile, “it also happens to be where the, supposedly, hottest gay bar in town is.”
Of course - Riley was on the prowl. He was single. There was nothing to keep him from meeting and bedding whoever he wanted. Brent knew that, as a friend, he couldn't let his jealousy show.
“So any luck?” he asked. He would continue to pretend that he didn't care, as he'd done so well since the beginning of their new arrangement.
Riley looked out the window and sighed, “Not really. Probably giving off a bad vibe because I've struck out so much lately.” He was actually heartbroken over Liam and Brent shook his head. It was really a waste, all this time that he'd spent mooning over Riley and the man not only di
dn't have a clue, he didn't even care.
“It's up here, make a right on the corner,” Riley told him and jumped out as soon as the car came to a stop. “I'll be right back,” his boss said before going back inside.
Brent could hear the music pounding from inside and wondered how anyone could meet to talk. He'd never been inside a gay bar. He had images in his mind that he realized were based on his experiences at the health club He was sure that Riley would have had plenty of luck if he had spent any time inside. The man had a raw sexuality that came from his eyes and radiated outward, grabbing you inside and forcing your heart rate up. If Brent could see it, all of the others must.
Riley came back, opened the door and sat down. “Fuck, of course my wallet's gone, Jesus Christ, perfect. You know, this is just too goddamn much for me right now.” Brent wondered if he were going to cry when he sank his face into his hands.
Brent wondered if he should pat his back, something comforting but touching seemed to be off limits and Riley had set the rules. Instead he waited in silence for Riley to speak and when he did, it was muffled and Brent had to ask, “Can you say that again?”
Riley shook his head no and sat up. “Nothing. It's stupid and I'm a little drunk.”
Now Brent wished that he'd heard. Was it confession? Did Riley just say any one of the hundred things that he had hoped to hear the man say?
“I hate to bother you but since I don't have my wallet, can you take me to the office?”
It gave Brent an excuse to spend a little more time with him, so he quickly agreed.
As they arrived at the gate, Riley realized that without his wallet, he had no card to unlock the front door. Brent smiled and passed his through the slot and the door clicked open. When Riley brushed by, he mumbled, “Thanks.”
They hadn't even touched, just his closeness, just the reminder of his scent and his body heat had brought Brent back to his earlier state of arousal. Ignoring him at work was one thing but now they were alone in a place that was flooded with memories for both of them.
Brent followed his boss back to his office and stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, surveying the couch where they had begun to make love. If only Riley hadn't asked the question, better, if Brent just had a better answer, everything would be different right now. There would be no rules about their conduct and Brent would be behind him right this minute, kissing the back of his neck while his fingers unbuttoned his shirt and he finally slid inside and felt Riley's nakedness once more.
Riley was rummaging through drawers and finally found his keys. “Got them! Seriously, thanks for this, Brent. You're a good man.”
With all of the reasons that he had lately to think otherwise, he'd take the compliment. “It's not a problem. It must be hard when you don't really know anyone in the city where you live.”
“Since this is at least partly your fault though,” Riley looked over at the couch for longer than a moment, as if he were remembering their bodies entwined there as well, “it was the least you could do.”
Riley turned off the light and closed his office door behind him. He was a little off balance and Brent assumed he had been right in the beginning; the man was a little drunk.
“My fault? What are you talking about?” What had he done except fall for Riley through no fault of his own?
Riley tried to smile but he didn't look happy.
“I was trying to be funny but it looks like I fucked that up too. Never mind, can you take me home now?”
Brent would love to see where Riley lived and had imagined that the two of them wound up in his house and then in his bed too many times to count. He followed Riley's directions and in less than ten minutes, they were at his door. Friends would end the evening here. Brent was torn. It seemed to be another one of those opportunities that could only present themselves so many times. Riley groaned and pressed his head against the window.
“Fuck, never again. I feel awful.”
“Why don't you let me help you up?” Brent wouldn't take no for an answer. He opened Riley's door and took him by the hand and then wrapped one arm around Riley's waist as they made their way up three flights of stairs.
“Of course, you have to live on the top floor,” Brent teased, loving every minute of it.
He unlocked Riley's door and helped him inside. Once more, a friend would stop here. He'd done his duty and it was late and Brent was on edge with the erection tapping at him, reminding him of what he hadn't finished earlier. The apartment was a huge loft, one room with floor to ceiling windows that were bare; anyone could look in if they wanted. To the right was a huge bed with one rumpled pillow. It appeared that, despite his popularity, Riley slept alone.
Riley kicked off his shoes and he still didn't seem sure on his feet, still hanging on to Brent for balance. Brent walked him to the bed and gently set him on the mattress. He was so close but this wasn't what he had pictured at all.
“I think I might be sick,” Riley groaned and Brent pushed back his blond hair from his forehead. It was damp and matted, like he'd been sweating all night and Brent wondered from what.
He brought Riley a cold washcloth and folded it, wiping it across his face. The man's green eyes were drowsy and had none of their usual sparkle. Setting the cloth on his forehead, Brent took his time studying Riley's bare chest, the lines of muscle, the flex and the curve, the pink nipples, places that he had recalled again and again in his mind. He wanted to lie next to him and touch him while he slept.
“What did you mean this was my fault?” he murmured, bent over, close to Riley's face. Brent could kiss him right now but it wouldn't be right.
Riley was almost asleep and his voice sounded far away.
“If I wasn't so lonely and stupid, I wouldn't be out at a club like that.”
Brent felt his heart race. He should let it go. According to the new rules, none of this was his business anyway, but he asked, “Liam really broke your heart, didn't he?”
Riley shook his head and closed his eyes.
“No, you did.”
Brent stood back. He left the bed. His mind was racing just like his heart. His body was a jangle of nerves, half turned-on, more than a little confused. Brent walked to the couch and took a seat, watching Riley as he slept. He had broken Riley's heart? He had been so busy bemoaning his loss that he'd never even considered that it might have been painful for Riley as well. He had been wrong; it had meant something.
Brent felt the emotion bubbling up and he lay down. He was a mess and he should get home before Suzanne realized that not only was he not in their bed, he was not in the house. He had never disappeared in the night before. She would be pissed and he hated fighting with her. One last look at the man stretched out on the bed though and he knew that he wasn't leaving until Riley woke up. He needed answers.
He didn't think that it was possible to fall asleep like that but when he felt the warmth from the sun on his face, Brent wondered what time it was. Rolling to his side, he saw that Riley was sitting on the couch with him and his face was bathed in early morning light. His smile was angelic.
“Good morning,” the blond man whispered, reaching his hand out to touch Brent's cheek. “I guess this means that you didn't take advantage of me after all.”
Riley was breaking the rules. He was touching him and Brent decided that the rules had all changed now and placed his palm on Riley's bare chest.
“I would never do that. You were sick,” he said, not that it hadn't crossed his mind briefly.
He could have easily taken Riley's pants down and helped himself to the rest of the body that he missed so much, but something about that seemed far too cold and distasteful to be a turn-on. He wanted Riley's eyes on him, his hands on his shoulders, his sighs. He wanted all of him and for the first time since their fight, he thought that it might be possible.
Chapter 12
Riley saw that Brent was touching him and his expression was impossible to read.
“Can I get you
some coffee?” his boss asked him and he stood up. He was walking away and Brent struggled to sit up, watching his perfect form, studying the way his body moved.
Brent picked his phone out of his pocket. Suzanne must not be awake yet. He hadn't missed one call and if he could just use his brain instead of his dick, he would leave now before he made a fool of himself, or worse, fell even more deeply in love with the man who was just out of reach.
“Sure, I'd love some, thanks,” he answered. He needed to wake up just a bit, he told himself, and then he was out of here.
Riley came back with two cups and sat down on the far end of the couch. Apparently whatever he had said in a drunken moment had passed; they were going to continue to be friends. Riley blew and sipped and was silent and Brent could feel his eyes on him.
“I have the feeling that I said some things last night that I shouldn't have,” he cleared his throat and sighed. “Did I hit on you again?”
Brent chuckled. “No, I wasn't that lucky. I just drove you and put a washcloth on your head and you told me that this was mostly my fault.” He wasn't going to ignore that, drunk or not. There seemed to be some truth to it.
Riley was embarrassed. His cheeks were pink and he looked down at his cup.
“Oh, fuck. I was afraid I'd do something even more stupid. Can we pretend that none of this happened? I don't usually get that drunk.”
Brent turned to face him, reaching over to take Riley's hand. It felt natural to have the man's fingers entwined in his own.
“We can pretend, if that's what you want. I guess that's what we've been doing. Are we going to try to ignore this forever?”
“Dammit, Brent,” Riley's voice broke and he paused. He didn't pull his hand away. If anything, he held it harder. “Don't you get it? I don't want to be in love with a married man. I can't do this.”