by G. R. Lyons
And he did love Vic, but the man just wouldn't fuck him. Wouldn't even use a finger or a toy, for that matter. The man flat refused to have anything to do with penetrative sex whatsoever.
Vic pulled his cello out of its case and got set up, so Ryley shoved his thoughts aside and tried to focus on rehearsal instead. They were good, but they needed to be amazing for this tour. Ryley doubted they'd ever be any kind of headliner act, but some degree of fame would be nice. What little boy didn't grow up wanting to be a rock star, or at least something along those lines?
Zac sure did, Ryley knew. For years, Zac had juggled two bands—Treble, as well as Inferno, which was a punk rock group—but the latter had fallen apart after Zac's bandmates learned he was gay, right when they were on the verge of being discovered. Inferno's music was hardly the kind Ryley enjoyed, but he'd seen them perform. Knew how talented they were. Inferno would have definitely hit it big if only Zac's bandmates hadn't turned their backs on him. Treble wouldn't reach nearly the heights of fame that Inferno might have, but Ryley was determined to try, for Zac's sake if nothing else.
The man had given up a lifelong dream just for the sake of no longer denying his love for Adrian. Looking at Zac, he was clearly more than happy with his choice, but Ryley knew how much Zac enjoyed the stage. Hells, Ryley got a thrill every time he stepped in front of an audience himself. Treble had to be more than good. That was all there was to it.
Ryley's phone vibrated in his pocket just before they were about to start their final run-through for the day. He slipped it out and checked the screen. A text from Athan, asking if Ryley could come over for a hookup. He stifled a groan, then chuckled to himself as he texted a reply.
I knew Falsiner senses were good, but could you really smell how horny I am all the way across town? ;)
When Athan didn't immediately answer, figuring the humor was lost on the guy, Ryley quickly sent another text: Finishing up, then I'll be over.
Athan texted back a simple 'alright', and Ryley shoved his phone back into his pocket and picked up his violin.
An hour later, they'd finally wrapped rehearsal for the day. Ryley and Vic said goodbye to Zac and Adrian, got back home, and lugged their instruments inside.
“You hungry?” Vic asked.
Ryley idly flipped through some files on the dining table. “Not really,” he lied. He could definitely eat, but he was much more hungry for cock, though he couldn't tell Vic that.
Vic nodded. “I think I'm gonna run down to the office for a couple hours.”
“Oh.” Ryley frowned. “Something wrong?”
“No, just…I forgot some files and I want to use the weekend to go over Arden's case notes.”
“Ah, alright.” Ryley hesitated. “You want any help?”
Vic shook his head. “I've got it.” He kissed Ryley on the temple and picked up his keys. “I'll be back in a bit.”
“Alright.” He watched Vic head for the door. “Love you!” he called at the last moment.
“You, too,” Vic called over his shoulder, then walked out the door.
Ryley waited, watching through the window as Vic's car headed down the street, then grabbed his own keys and darted outside, locking up the house before he got into his car and grabbed the wheel. He didn't dare keep Athan's address saved in the nav system, so he drove there manually, trying to focus. It was bad enough he'd been jealous and aroused all day thanks to Zac and Adrian, but the thought of what he had in store for him—Athan and that amazing cock of his—got him so wound up that it was all he could do to stick to a safe speed as he navigated the residential neighborhoods.
He reached the Vas-kelens' house and parked on the street, then darted up to the front porch. Athan's uncle answered the door, the giant man giving him not much more than a grunt in greeting before he stepped aside and gestured for Ryley to come in.
“Athan's upstairs,” the man said, turning away to head for the kitchen.
“Ah. Thanks.” Ryley gave him a smile and darted off. He never got much more than that in terms of words with the man. Some kind of cultural thing that Ryley had yet to figure out.
Not that he ever stuck around long enough in a social capacity in order to learn more about it. Ryley headed straight upstairs and into Athan's room. He found the man pacing incessantly, clearly wound-up about something.
That meant Ryley would probably get fucked more than once before he went home. He grinned.
“Hey, sorry that took so long,” Ryley said, shutting the bedroom door and kicking off his shoes. Athan didn't have a problem with his family seeing them together—another cultural thing that Ryley had yet to understand—but Ryley certainly didn't want an audience. The club was a different story. Exhibitionism for strangers was fine. For family? Not so much. “Had a band practice,” he went on. “Couldn't get out of it.”
Athan merely grunted in response, so Ryley took the hint and stripped in silence, then bent over the bed so Athan could take him.
It was all over in minutes, both of them so desperate for release that they came in record time. They collapsed next to one another, stretched out across Athan's bed, both of them on their backs while they tried to catch their breaths.
Athan would be ready to go again in moments, Ryley knew, but he always waited for Ryley to recover first before he started another round. Considering how cold and unfeeling the Falsiner man appeared, he was oddly a gentleman when it came to sex. Athan never got off without making sure Ryley did as well, and never pressured him to start before he was ready.
Ryley looked over and saw Athan's cock was already hard again. He grinned and shook his head. Good gods, the man was a machine. Ryley definitely wanted to go again himself, but he needed a few more minutes before he was ready. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a huge map of the world that was pinned to the wall. It hadn't been there the last time Ryley came over, but he knew what it was for. Athan was planning a trip around the world with his twin sister.
“Starting your trip on Erostil, huh?” Ryley asked, noting the pins stuck in the map.
Athan blinked at him, as though torn out of his thoughts. “Oh. Yeah.”
“When are you going?”
Athan shrugged. “As soon as we can afford it.”
“You should come with us!” Ryley suggested, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Us?”
“Yeah. The band. We're all taking leave from work for a few weeks for this gig we've got lined up. That's where I was, before coming here. Rehearsing for it. We're gonna be playing on Libertas II in exchange for free passage, and then we've got a few shows scheduled on Erostil.” Ryley shrugged. “Not exactly the big time, but it'll be nice to play somewhere other than just the lounge at Underground.”
Athan grunted. Ryley knew the man had been to the lounge a couple times, but it didn't seem to be his scene.
Ryley bumped his shoulder. “If you come, maybe I could actually get some along the way.” He paused, then mumbled, “Since Vic hasn't touched me in weeks.”
Athan grumbled something under his breath that Ryley couldn't make out. Ryley was just about to ask the man to repeat whatever he'd said when Athan reached over and grabbed Ryley's semi-hard cock.
“Take it that's my cue to shut up,” Ryley said with a chuckle as he rolled over onto his front.
Athan reached around and worked Ryley's cock for several minutes with one hand, bringing Ryley right to the edge before backing off again, while the other hand rolled on a fresh condom. Finally, he let go of Ryley's cock, grabbed Ryley by the hips instead, and thrust back inside all in one go.
The second orgasm took a lot longer to recover from, but Ryley stayed long enough to get through round three, both of them clearly needing the release. The last two rounds were far more gentle than what they normally did. At least that meant Ryley was sort of able to sit down once he got back into his car to head home.
Feeling physically content for the time being, Ryley slumped back in the seat with his hands
resting in his lap, letting the car do all the work. He let out a sigh, shaking his head. It was too bad he couldn't have feelings for someone like Athan. Maybe not Athan specifically. The man had casual sex with men, but would eventually settle down with a woman. Another one of those cultural things. Falsiners definitely had some weird rules about sex. Not that Ryley was complaining. His arrangement with Athan meant he could get thoroughly-satisfying sex just about any time he wanted, since Athan was always ready and eager to go.
He just wished he could have it all in one man. The great sex and the feelings. Ryley sighed again. Maybe he'd just been with Vic for so long that he couldn't handle the idea of a change. Still, something had to give at some point. Neither of them seemed satisfied with their relationship lately, and if Ryley continued to be as careless as he'd become about his hookups, he was bound to risk losing Vic over it at some point.
Later rather than sooner, he hoped. The longer he could put off Vic finding out, the better.
Ryley got home, relieved to see Vic hadn't returned yet. He rushed inside, showered, changed, and started pulling things out for dinner. Maybe he'd give Vic a nice, romantic evening at home.
And throw off the scent of betrayal a little bit longer.
Chapter 4
RYLEY SLOWED his pace as he rounded the next street corner and checked his fitness watch. Looked like his heart rate was right on target. He slowed a bit more, regulating his breathing, and reached back to retie his hair, opting for a simple tail instead of the bun that refused to hold up as he ran.
He checked his watch again and slowly sped back up to his usual speed, focusing on his heart rate and breathing for a few minutes until he got back into the rhythm. There were still a couple miles left of his usual ten-mile route until he was back home. Plenty of time to work up a decent sweat.
Ryley reached his street and slowed to a jog. By the time he stepped up to his front door, his heart rate was just about back to resting.
Smiling to himself, Ryley went inside.
He found Vic in the dining room, his laptop perched on the one empty corner of the table while he balanced bills and receipts on his lap.
Vic looked up, gave Ryley a once-over, and shook his head. “I'll never figure out how you go for a run and never come back gasping for breath.”
Ryley chuckled and crossed the room. “Come train with me and I'll teach ya.”
Vic shrugged.
Ryley bent down and hugged him from behind. “I know, I know, my man prefers weights to running.” He gave Vic's hard body a squeeze for emphasis, all those muscles apparent despite the layers of his three-piece suit. “And I'm certainly not complaining.”
Vic pulled away slightly.
“Oh, sorry.” Ryley frowned. “Am I gross?”
Vic shook his head, his eyes trained on his laptop.
Ryley hesitated. “Baby, what's wrong?”
Vic was silent for a moment, then he let out a sigh, reached across the table, unearthed a couple of bills from the mess that Ryley had yet to clean up, and slapped them down on top of another pile. “Have you paid these?”
Ryley glanced at them and shrugged. “Maybe?”
Vic turned to look up at him. “Maybe?”
Ryley shrugged again.
“Ryley.” Vic shook his head. “Your mobile phone bill, and the electric bill.” He jabbed a finger at the papers. “If you haven't paid them, they're both past due.”
Ryley shrugged and headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. “So I'll pay late charges. Big deal.” He uncapped the bottle and took a swig, then looked at Vic again.
His man was staring at him, slowly shaking his head. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“I–” Ryley started to answer, but nothing came out. Of course he took things seriously. Right? “Vic, it's not like a late charge is gonna break me. Yeah, I'm not a millionaire like Adrian, but I make more money than I know what to do with–”
“That's not the point!” Vic interrupted. He gestured at the table. “You're behind on your bills. You walk in late to work like it's nothing.” He jabbed a finger at the kitchen. “There would probably never be food in that refrigerator if I didn't go to the market for you every weekend. You go out drinking in the middle of the week–” Before Ryley could protest, Vic shot him a look. “And don't even try to tell me you didn't. I smelled the alcohol on your breath when you came back to bed that night.”
Ryley grimaced. He'd washed off the morgue—and the sex—but he hadn't even thought about brushing his teeth to cover up the alcohol.
He waited, watching Vic, feeling his heart rate pick up while wondering if Vic was finally going to accuse him of cheating.
Inhale, one. Exhale, two. Inhale, three. He slowly exhaled, his heart rate back to normal.
“Hells, Ry, you make jokes at murder scenes,” Vic finally went on. He sighed and looked down, shaking his head, giving Ryley just enough time to let out a sigh of his own and recover before Vic looked back up. “You can't keep treating life like it's all just some big game. Especially with the kind of things you see at work.” He paused, his look going even more stern. “And don't even get me started on the ma–”
“No,” Ryley insisted, holding up a hand. “Not that again.”
Inhale, one. Ryley slowly exhaled. Vic's ridiculous theory was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Well, last except the whole matter of his persistent infidelity.
Vic looked like he was going to go on, then huffed out a breath through his nose instead. “It just makes me wonder if you even take us seriously,” Vic murmured.
Ryley stared at him, waiting for the direct accusation, but the longer the moment stretched, the more the silence continued. He forced on a smile.
“Tell you what,” Ryley said, taking a step closer. “I'm gonna go shower, and when you're done here, I promise I'll sit down and get my bills paid, yeah? I'll just get in your way if I do it now.”
Vic studied his eyes for a moment as though waiting for something, then he sighed again and nodded. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered, turning back to his laptop without another word.
Ryley waited. It sure looked like Vic wanted to say more, but the man was focused on his own bills. Ryley strode off to the washroom, peeled off his sweaty clothes, and jumped in the shower. Once he was clean and dry, he pulled on a loose pair of shorts and came out, only to find Vic still hard at it. Ryley skipped right past the dining room and went to the living room instead, stretching out on his back on the couch, crossing his ankles and throwing an arm up over his head. Maybe he'd just have a nice little rest until Vic was done.
Blood. It was all over him. On his skin. In his hair. Ryley wanted to get away, but he couldn't seem to escape it. He couldn't move. He was just…stuck. Sitting there. Sticky blood all around him and strange shapes looming amongst the shadows.
Ryley gasped and sat up, struggling when he felt something wrap around him.
“Shhh, Ry, it's alright,” Vic murmured. “Just a dream. You're safe.”
Ryley squeezed his eyes shut. Inhale, one. Exhale, two. Inhale, three. He sighed and sank against Vic.
“Shhh, you're safe,” Vic whispered.
With his head on Vic's shoulder and Vic's arms around him, Ryley closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but the nightmare.
He smelled food.
“Did you cook?” he mumbled against Vic's shirt.
Vic nodded, his chin rubbing against the back of Ryley's head.
“How long have I been out?”
“About an hour.”
Ryley groaned. “Didn't mean to fall asleep.” He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, snuggling in closer to Vic, smiling when he felt Vic's hands rubbing soothing circles all over his naked back. “Mmmm.” He loved Vic's hands. They weren't as rough as he preferred—Vic did a little too much office work for that, the only callouses on his palms being from lifting weights at the gym—but they still felt amazing on his skin.
Ryley pulled back just
enough to see Vic's face. Vic's expression slowly morphed from one of concern to something heated, his eyes hooded while his pupils grew. Ryley whimpered and swooped in for a kiss.
Vic seized him, pulling him close, and after a moment of clumsy scrambling, Ryley found himself on his feet and being nudged toward the bedroom. Gods, yes. He tugged on Vic's clothes, only managing to get the man's shirt untucked and pants unbuttoned before Vic shoved him onto the bed.
They scrambled out of their clothes, and Vic stretched out on top of him, kissing him hard as he grabbed Ryley's hip and lined up their hard cocks between their bodies.
“Vic,” Ryley moaned.
They wrestled across the bed, rolling one another over, hands everywhere as they tried to find something to hold on to, thrusting against one another as they took turns squeezing a hand between their bodies and stroking.
Vic pulled Ryley over on top of him and grabbed Ryley's hips, yanking him into position, then moved one hand to wrap around both their cocks.
“Oh gods.” Ryley threw his hands out and grabbed the headboard, bracing himself as he thrust into Vic's fist and against Vic's cock. “Baby…”
He was so close, his heart racing as he chased his orgasm. Ryley closed his eyes, trying to imagine riding Vic's cock instead of just frotting with the man. It wasn't enough. He needed something to push him over the edge.
“Ryley?”
Ryley squeezed his eyes shut tighter, shaking his head. He needed to focus.
Gods, why couldn't Vic just fuck him like he always wanted?
“Ryley.”
“What?” Ryley spat, opening his eyes.
Vic pointed at the ceiling. “The lights.”
“What?” Ryley panted.
“They're doing it again.”
Ryley shook his head. “Just ignore it.” He didn't care about the damned lights, or Vic's stupid theories. He just wanted to get off with his boyfriend. Was that really too much to ask?