Sharp Edges: An Urban Gay Romance

by Moreau, Lenore

  "You ever think we should just leave?" he asks. I look at him in surprise.

  "The fuck you talking about?"

  "I mean... what if we go somewhere else? The five of us. We could do it. Shit, we could stop the loan shark stunt and get Christian into a decent school if we didn't have to worry about dad stealing our money all the time. He wouldn't come after us, I bet."

  "He would," I say, certain. Not because he cares. Not because he'd worry. Because it would hurt his goddamn pride if all of his sons left. Not to mention he'd lose his main source of income. "He's got people he knows everywhere."

  "But what if we-"

  "Fuck, Marco, there's nothing we can do, alright?" I snap. "I've been thinking about it for years. If you want the five of us to still be alive in five years, then we stay here and we deal with the three months a year he's home. It could be a lot fucking worse. We both know people who have it worse." His face falls.

  "I know. I just hate seeing Christian scared like that. And what about Lina?"

  "I don't know. You know, the way he's going he'll die sooner rather than later." It's bleak as shit, but it's true. I don't know how many fucking benders he's been on lately, but all it takes is one time mismeasuring his heroin for him to be out of our lives for good. It's kind of fucked up that I dream of that day the way some guys dream of living in mansions. "We've just got to stick it out and play by rules that won't get us killed."

  And I need to tone things way the fuck down with Kelly. The shit we've been doing lately is pretty fucking queer, for one thing. And I don't like how I feel about that. But my dad would kill Kelly. He'd kill us both.

  "That's dark," Marco says, looking impressed. He rolls another joint and we share it in silence, watching the smoke curl around the lamp. "We gotta figure this shit out, G. Soon. We can't just wait for him to die. We need a way out. I'm getting fucking sick of this."

  "Me too," I sigh. "Just be patient. If we see a shot to get out, we'll take it. Either way, we'll survive. We always fucking have, right? Caruso kids bounce back." He nods. I wonder what happened to suddenly make him care so much. Marco's easy-going to the point of being downright fucking annoying sometimes. He'll go with whatever the fuck's happening around him without a question. Especially if I say it's the best way. So something happened. But if he doesn't want to tell me, he doesn't have to. Fuck, I've got enough secrets from him right now. I don't press.

  "Night, Gion," he says, gently pushing me off his bed. I lay in my bed, knowing we're both still awake, trying to think our way out. Neither of us is smart enough for this shit. And there's no way out. If there was, I would have found it years ago.

  14

  I think Kelly can tell there's something up when he picks me up this morning. He doesn't try to kiss me or anything gay like that, at least, and we ride in silence to work. He parks but doesn't unlock the doors, turning instead to me. His eyes are bigger than usual, that same stupid fucking green as alway.

  "I just want to say thanks for the last few days. I needed somebody. You kept me sane." I punch his shoulder and give him a warning look.

  "Don't get faggy on me. We had fun, alright? That's all."

  "Right," he says, his eyes practically fucking sparking at me. I hop out of the car as soon as I'm able and trek inside. Sheila glances up and gives me a disinterested glance.

  "Paycheck," she mutters, holding out an envelope. I stare at it like it could bite me. What the fuck do I do with a paycheck? The bar's always paid me under the table and you can fucking bet Harry isn't writing me checks for the shit I do for him. Sheila huffs. "Take it, kid." I do, gingerly.

  "Thanks," I manage before ripping the envelope open. "Holy shit."

  "That's what you get for good honest work," Oliver says, elbowing me in the ribcage as he takes his own. I scowl, but it doesn't last. I keep staring at the number, the four-digit number. How the fuck is that only two weeks worth of work? That's enough to pay every bill and still have two-thirds left to save. "Close your mouth. You're drooling."

  "Fuck you, Kelly," I mumble, clutching the check tightly to my chest. "And- uh, thanks for the job."

  "Don't get faggy on me," he says mockingly. I flip him off and we walk to the garage together.

  Again, fucking Dave shadows him all day. Like a fucking trained monkey. And Kelly's fucking patient as hell. Maybe he doesn't hate Dave as much as I thought he did. Not that I give a fuck. Kelly's free to do whatever the hell he likes and it doesn't bother me either way. I mean I've tried to fuck Lydia, haven't I? It's not like we're a fucking couple. Dave touches his arm as he makes a joke and Kelly laughs. He doesn't pull away. I look back to the engine I'm working on and realize I haven't moved in the last five minutes.

  "You good, Caruso?" Aaron asks me. I shake my head and pull myself out of the moment.

  "Yeah, good. I'll get more coffee on my break." He walks off and my eyes return to Kelly. It's good that he's flirting with Dave. Gives him less of a reason to hate me when I end the sexual stuff. Which I'm definitely going to do at some point soon. I feel like I need to taper, though. It's like alcoholics. If they stop drinking all at once, they have seizures and shit. Taper off, and I'll be fine. No gay seizures. So when he pulls me into his car for our lunch break, I don't argue. We park in the back of some superstore parking lot, and I thank god the windows are tinted as he leans toward me. I put a finger in front of my lips.

  "No kissing, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, eyes flickering with hurt.

  "I thought you got over that."

  "No fucking way, man, it's still gay. I just thought it would help you get over your dad," I lie, keeping my face as cold as I can. His lips press together tightly.

  "Fine."

  "You gonna fuck me or what?" I ask. He merely sits there, a hard look in his eyes.

  "You suck my cock and I'll fuck you." I snort, but he looks serious.

  "I'm not fucking sucking your cock, man. You know I'm not a fag."

  "Fine. Then we'll go back." He starts the car, staring straight ahead. I huff in disbelief.

  "What the fuck? Since when do you turn down fucking me?"

  "Not feeling it. Besides if I work through lunch I get more money." He starts to drive. He's not bluffing. I grab his arm.

  "C'mon just fuck me. Please?" The corners of his lips twitch.

  "I don't think I've ever heard you say please before."

  "Did it work?"

  "Nope." Fucking cocksucker's blue balling me. I'm already half hard from anticipation. This is some bullshit. A tiny, annoying voice in the back of my head whispers that I deserve it.

  "C'mon, I'll buy you a drink after work or something." He looks straight ahead. "Goddammit, Kelly, what do you want from me?"

  "I want you to blow me." We're out of the parking lot now, driving back to work. I cross my arms and sit in stony silence. Kelly's grin is still missing. He really means it. There's no fucking way any cock is coming anywhere near my mouth. Not even Kelly's. I shoulda just kissed him.

  "Kelly, I swear to fuck-"

  "You know how to get what you want, Caruso." I glance at him quickly, then away.

  "Not happening." Caruso. He hasn't called me Caruso in a while. I prefer Gio.

  "Fine." We get back to work, and all the while, he ignores me. I hate it. He never ignores me. And fucking Dave is all over him, touching his arms, barely fucking doing his own work as he flirts. It takes every inch of civility I have not to punch his fucking face in. When the day finally ends, I walk toward the bus stop. Kelly calls out behind me.

  "Get in the fucking car, Gio." I scowl at him.

  "I think I'll take the bus."

  "Don't be an idiot. Get in." I get in, but I'm very careful not to look at him.

  "You gonna fuck me now?" I ask.

  "Not till you suck me. But we're still friends, aren't we? Isn't this what you wanted? No gay shit, just friends?"

  "Yes," I say through gritted teeth. "Friends who don't kiss and who occasionally fuck."

  "
Well, that's fine. I'm down for that. But so far you've made all the rules in this. So I'm making one." I groan and lean back in my seat.

  "Since when did you get so uppity?"

  "Since you changed the rules then changed them back." I fume quietly. I don't even say goodbye when he drops me off. I just flip him off and hop out, nearly running inside. Still. He drove me home. He didn't make me take the bus. That makes me almost smile. Almost.

  The first couple days are fine. I figure Kelly's going to crack soon, and when he does, things will be back to normal. But he doesn't crack. We still hang out and drink together, but at work more and more he sticks to Dave of the bad skin and shitty-Mormon hair. I don't know if I've ever hated someone as much as I hate Dave. The guy's just such an insufferable douche. The fucking way he walks makes me want to scream. Or hit him. I hate that I can't hit him. Four days and five hours later, Kelly still hasn't cracked. I'm getting desperate. After work, he gives me a grin and a cheerful wave. I'm horny enough that I head to Lydia's. She grins at me.

  "Hey babes."

  "Hi. You wanna fuck?" She raises an eyebrow, but steps back from the doorway.

  "What about that chick? Thought you were all committed or some shit now."

  "Me? Committed? No fucking way unless it's to an asylum." She grins and tilts her head toward her bedroom. I pull off my shirt before I'm inside, ignoring the curious stares of the people in the living room. "Anyway, h-she's holding out. I'm dying."

  "Happy to be your last resort," she grumbles. I roll my eyes.

  "I've been your last resort for the past three years, Lyd, don't get high and mighty on me now." She takes her shirt off. She's not wearing a bra. That should turn me on. It doesn't do a damn thing. She sees my stricken face and frowns.

  "You don't want to fuck, do you?"

  "I want to," I mumble. She scowls and puts her shirt back on. "I just can't. God fucking dammit."

  "G?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm your best fucking friend. Would you please just tell me what's going on? You know I won't say anything." And all at once, I can't hold it in anymore. I have to fucking tell her. If I don't she's going to bitch about how she's ugly and unfuckable. But the main reason is that if I don't, it's going to kill me from the inside. I sit on the bed and stare at the wall.

  "I've been fucking a guy." I wait, but she's silent. I ignore the urge to turn around. I don't want to see her face. She could kick me out. She could tell my dad. But it's Lydia. She wouldn't do that. Probably wouldn't do that. "It's nothing like- emotional or anything. It's just- He's really good at sex. So it's kinda been going on. And I'm gonna stop. I'm tapering down." Her hand touches my back and I jump. She sits beside me and lays her head on my shoulder. I stiffen, surprised.

  "I knew it," she says simply. Those three words- fuck if they don't mean something. A rush of warmth toward Lydia hits me so hard I feel tears welling up in my eyes. But I'm not a fag, so I choke em back down. "I wondered when you'd tell me."

  "How the fuck did you know?" I ask. My voice is raw.

  "G, you've been cagey for the past month. And you smile and shit. I've seen you with girls before. You've never been like that. And I've seen the way you look at guys-"

  "Hey, fuck you, I don't look at guys," I protest. She holds her hands up in mocking surrender.

  "Right. Whatever. I always kind of thought this would happen. That's my point. And you know this is the twenty-first fucking century. Who gives a shit if you're..." she pauses, smirking as she thinks about the choice in words that won't get her smacked. "Not entirely 100% straight."

  "I do," I say uncomfortably. "And I am mostly straight. This is just a fluke."

  "Hey, whatever you've got to tell yourself," she says. Her hand's on my knee now. "I'm just saying it doesn't like make you less of a man or whatever."

  "I'm still plenty man," I agree. I frown. "Sorry I can't fuck you anymore."

  "It's all good. I'm sure you know you're not my only source of sex." Her head finds my shoulder once more, and I wrap a wary arm around her. "You're still my best friend. Even if you get fucked by guys. Maybe more so because we've got that in common."

  "Why do you assume I'm the one getting fucked?"

  "Are you kidding me? You're a total bottom. Even when we fucked you hated taking control." I scowl at her, but she hits my arm playfully. And fuck, man, she's right. Dammit. She knows me way too well. "C'mon, G, let's go get some alcohol. I'm dying."

  15

  Harry grins at me as I walk in, raising the rag and hesitating before putting it back onto the counter. I sigh in relief. There's something really nice in knowing I'll never have to touch that chlamydia-ridden thing again.

  "Well look at that. The return of the prodigal."

  "The fuck you call me?" I ask, ready to be offended. He just shakes his head.

  "You kids. Nobody cracks open the bible these days. This place doesn't run as well without you." He gives me a reproachful glance.

  "Yeah well, my life runs better with money," I say shrugging as I sit. Harry grins at Lydia in a way that makes me want to slap him.

  "And Miss Lydia Jones. You haven't been in here in a while. At least a week. The usual?"

  "Make it two," I say. Harry raises an eyebrow.

  "Since when do you drink old fashioneds? Thought you were more of a beer guy."

  "Had to grow a pair at some point," I say. He nods, giving a last leer at Lydia before walking away. The liquor is warm and soothing, taking the edge of the pent-up sexual energy that's been running through my veins. Fuck Kelly. Fuck these nerves I've never had to deal with before. Just as I think it, he walks in. Dave's beside him and my heart drops. God dammit. He's fucking Dave. Dave probably blows him too. He'll never even look in my direction again. Not when he's got that guy slobbering all over him. Lydia clears her throat and I turn back to her.

  "Do you know that guy?"

  "Yeah. That's the guy," I mumble. She whips her head around so fast I worry it'll fly off her body. "Don't be so fucking obvious."

  "Which one?" she asks, still staring around the room. Everyone's got to be looking at her. I stare into my drink, trying to ignore the attention.

  "The tall one."

  "Fuck, G, he's hot. Who's the guy he's with?"

  "Some fuck we work with. He's a dick." She turns back around and raises an eyebrow. I feel rather than see them approach the bar. Dave notices me first.

  "Caruso," he calls, giving me a smirk. Smug fucking dick. "Fancy seeing you here." He throws an arm around Kelly's shoulders and my vision turns red. I push the anger down. I work with him. Hitting him would feel very fucking good, but it's not worth my job with the real checks and good money. I keep telling myself that.

  "Dave," I spit back. I wish I knew his last name. Puts me at a disadvantage that I don't, but I've never given enough of a shit about him to pay attention to it. Kelly looks awkward as fuck. I swallow hard. "Hey, Kelly."

  "Hey, Gio." Lydia looks at me, grinning mischievously.

  "Gio?"

  "Don't even fucking try it or I'll rip your hair out a strand at a time," I hiss. She raises an eyebrow but shuts up. "Lydia, this is Oliver Kelly. Kelly, Lydia." I ignore Dave pointedly, hoping he'll just go away. He doesn't.

  "Your girlfriend?" Dave asks, his grip around Kelly tightening imperceptibly.

  "Best friend," she corrects, studying Kelly curiously. It's so fucking obvious she knows. Kelly's got to know I told her. "Are you two together?"

  "No," Kelly says as Dave says "Yes." They look at each other and Kelly shrugs his arm off. "This is the first time we've gone out." He looks at me as he says it. His eyes are wide and guilty.

  "Who gives a fuck what you fags do?" I ask, downing the rest of my drink and raising it at Harry. He rolls his eyes but starts making me another one.

  "Gets a new job and all ova sudden thinks he's king of Persia," he mumbles under his breath.

  "What do you do, Lydia?" Dave asks. He's not looking at her, though. He's looki
ng at me and he's smirking so wide his face is about to split in half. I stare him down until he finally looks away, not listening to Lydia's answer. She can't really come out and say what she does. Not to people she barely knows. Not to people who're as brash about being fags as Dave is. I don't know what she told him. I can't think straight. I down my second drink in a long gulp and give Harry a nod.

  "Ready to go?" I ask Lydia. She nods.

  "See ya at work," Dave says, way too close to Kelly again. Their hands are practically fucking. I give him a last glance before heading out, Lydia beside me.

  "I'm sorry," she says as soon as we're through the doors. She puts a hand on my arm, and I brush it off.

  "I don't give a fuck. Like I said, I'm not a fucking fag. He can do his thing with whoever he wants. I just like fucking him." She doesn't look convinced. I hate her for it. My thoughts are written on her face. And my skin burns. I should have sucked him off the other day.

  "Gio," a voice calls out behind us. I turn. Kelly. He's alone. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asks, his gaze flicking to Lydia and back to me.

  "I'll see ya later," she says, kissing my cheek and sauntering away. The way that girl moves her hips is lewd as hell. Doesn't do much for me, but I pity most of the guys walking by.

  "What?" I ask arms crossed together.

  "He's been asking me out for weeks. I've always said no. I just felt bad. It's not a thing. I swear to god."

  "I don't give a shit either way," I say. Dave walks out before I can say anything else. He spins Kelly around, planting a kiss square on his lips. Kelly looks shocked as he pulls away, wiping at his lips. The red fills my vision again. Fuck work. Fuck Kelly. But mostly fuck Dave. My fist is flying before I'm conscious of it. My hand meets flesh hard. His face makes a sick smacking sound as it gives, and he staggers backward, his eyes wide with shock. I catch his jaw once more, shaking my hand out. He trips over his own feet, landing on his ass. My bones are gonna bruise for sure, but it's fucking worth it. One look at Kelly tells me to stop. No need to go overboard. Just teach the fucker some manners.