Sharp Edges: An Urban Gay Romance

by Moreau, Lenore

  "Fuck you, Dave," I spit at him, leaving him stunned on the ground as I stride away. To my shock, Kelly follows.

  "Holy shit, Gio," he says, voice breathless. He sounds... awed. This guy and watching me beat people up. Weird fetish, but who am I to judge? I like taking it up the ass. "Holy shit. I can't believe you did that. We work with him."

  "He won't snitch," I say, suddenly certain of it. "He's Upper East. Like us. He knows what'll happen if he does."

  "Come to my place," he says. I freeze and glance back at him, confused.

  "Shouldn't you be getting back to Dave Whatshisface? Your damsel in distress?" He shakes his head, his eyes wide.

  "No fucking way. I told you it was a one-time thing. I felt bad. I was never going to do anything with him."

  "You shouldn't feel bad for not wanting to fuck somebody." My tone's harsh. I can't help it. Still, I get into his car. His mom's asleep on the couch, Lily in her arms. I raise an eyebrow.

  "She doesn't have a room yet," Kelly offers grudgingly. "Still not sure how long she's staying." I nod. We barely get into his room before his hands are on my chest, pushing me back into the wall. His thumbs graze my nipples, sending sparks through me.

  "Gets you hot watching me fight?" I ask, a little breathless. He shrugs, pressing his nose against mine. He doesn't try to kiss me. That's a good thing.

  "Gets me hot seeing you pissed. I dunno why. I like seeing you top people knowing I'm gonna top you after." I laugh as he sucks down on a soft spot on my neck.

  "Woah there, tiger, what makes you think you're gonna be topping me?" I ask. Every inch of my skin is electric, though. It's been way. Too. Long. His hands drag down, hooking around my hips and rubbing slow circles.

  "Bet you're hoping I'm gonna top you." Fucker's right and he knows it. He pulls away, a smug grin on his face. "But first you gotta suck my cock." The idea actually sounds... insanely hot right now. Maybe it's because I haven't gotten laid in four days. Maybe it's still the nerves frayed from punching an asshole. But I push him back hard, pressing him into the bed. His eyes are bright and his grin is wide. I yank his pants down and give him a look.

  "You never said how long. I could just lick it once and you'd be obligated to fuck me."

  "Sure," he agrees. He must be as horny as I am to compromise on something like this. I kneel between his legs, taking his cock in my hand and stroking it. I fucking love how it feels, so hard and ready. Just having it in my hand brings back all the times it's fucked me. I shiver. "You just gonna stare at it all night?" I smirk and flip him off. He's been spending too much time with me. Sarcastic asshole. Slowly, I move my head over his lap. I wet my lips, mouth suddenly dry. I glance up at Kelly once more. His grin's faded now and his eyes are hungry. That's all the push I need.

  My tongue flicks across the head of his cock, testing the waters. It tastes like he smells, like salt and campfire, and the feel of it goes straight to my cock. My lips close around him and he lets out a moan. I suck on it until my lips press back together, smacking with a lewd wet sound. His eyes are focused on me, intense and dark. I guide his cock back into my mouth, taking a few more inches in this time. I'm so fucking hard. Why is sucking another guy's cock making me so fucking hard? He groans above me, both of his hands coming to rest in my hair. I love the feel of him, love his taste, love the noises I pull out of him like a violinist pulls from their instrument. I could do this for fucking hours. My hand and mouth move together, clumsily at first but with growing confidence as his dick twitches in my mouth and his hands clench into my hair. I lose myself in it, and he pulls me away before I get tired. I frown up at him.

  "Get on the bed. Now," he says. I start to pull off my clothes, but he stops me after I get my shirt off, shoving me down and climbing on top of me. He pulls at my pants until they're down to my knees. I turn back to see what he's doing, but he shoves my head into the blankets. I could fight, could make things more interesting, but right now I don't want to. Right now I just want him. Cold lube hits my ass and I shudder. Then he's pressing into me and I lose any thought I might have had.

  "Oliver-" I gasp before I can stop myself. I nearly come just from that. Jesus. Four days is too fucking long. He fucks me hard and fast, grunting obscenities at me.

  "God you must fucking love my cock," he mutters. "You were fucking-ah- moaning around it like you couldn't get enough." I can't think- can't respond except with a low moan. His hand closes around my cock and he strokes me in time with his thrusts. It doesn't take long for me to come. I'm too pent up to even have any pride about it. He fucks me through it, his teeth closing around my shoulder hard like he's marking me. It's too much sensation and I cry out, squirming beneath him. He lets out a final moan and I feel him come into me. He shudders above me for a moment before slowly pulling out and collapsing beside me on the bed. We lay nearly six inches apart trying to catch our breaths. My whole body is warm and wrung-out.

  "Fuck this is gonna be hard to quit," I murmur before I can stop myself.

  "You wanna stop?" he asks, not looking at me.

  "Not yet. Fuck, eventually we're gonna have to. I've gotta like get married and shit, don't I?" He's silent. I glance over at him, but his eyes are fixed firmly on the ceiling. "I mean we don't have to stop now or nothing."

  "I guess not," he says. His voice is cold. "Hey, can you get out of here, man? I've got a lot to do tonight." His jaw clenches and his lips push together. He's kicking me out.

  "You don't wanna go again?" I ask, trying for a grin. "I mean we only made it- what, ten minutes that time?" He still won't look at me. His voice is flat.

  "No, I don't. Look, just get out of here, G, I'll see you tomorrow." I frown. If he would just look at me, it'd be alright. If I could see his stupid green eyes and his obnoxious smirk there might still be a chance this can go on.

  "Kelly- I didn't mean to be a dick," I try. He doesn't move.

  "No. It's fine. You're fuckin' straight, right?" There's a hint of mockery in his voice. I bristle.

  "Yeah. I am fucking straight. You've known that from the beginning." My voice is louder than I want it to be. "I've always told you that. You're the one who keeps trying to make this more than it is."

  "Fucking fine. Then we both knew this had to stop sometime. It stops soon, then. Fine. I'll see you tomorrow. I've got shit to do." I rise from the bed, anger swimming through my veins.

  "Fine. Have a good fucking night here alone." I leave, not bothering to quiet my footsteps as I walk down the stairs and into the night.

  16

  Kelly's fucking infuriating. I'm mad enough that even the cool empty streets aren't welcoming. I brush past my dad on my way inside, not even looking at him.

  "The hell's up your ass?" he asks. I flip him off, not caring, and shut myself in my room. When I catch sight of Manny, my anger fades for half a second, replaced by concern.

  "Holy fuck," I mutter. He's a patchwork quilt of purple and red. Both of his eyes are swollen and his nose is still bleeding. He holds a tissue to it wincing while Marco rubs at the dried blood on his face. The anger floods back. "Did he do this?" I start for the door, but Marco grabs my arm and pulls me back. "Get your fuckin' hands off me or you're gonna lose em."

  "Sit down," he hisses. I scowl but sit beside them. All of us are here. Lina's holding Christian's hand and for once he's not bitching about not being a baby.

  "Why the fuck did nobody stop him?"

  "They weren't there," Manny says. "Fucking five of them got me. Dad took me home acting all generous for not capping me. Said he's glad I learned my lesson now instead of in prison."

  "We've got to kill him," I say suddenly. Lina laughs, cold and hollow. But I'm not kidding.

  "We can't kill him, G. Not even you could kill him. He's still our dad."

  "You'd be surprised," I murmur darkly. I can picture it. A quick stroke of a knife to his throat, blood pouring onto the carpet, his eyes wide and afraid... It would feel good. Really fucking good. "What the fuck else are we going to d
o? Stick around until he kills one of us? We gotta kill him and make it look like an accident." Marco looks at me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

  "I don't know, G. Sounds pretty fucking stupid to me." The others nod. I clench my fists, struggling to keep them from flying through a wall. My nerves are so frayed from the last few days that I can't think straight.

  "We leave, he finds us. We stay, he hurts us. We do more than throw a punch or two and he'll call his fucking goons on us. What the fuck else are we supposed to do?"

  "Fuck if I know," Lina says. She rests a hand on my knee. "But we'll figure it out, okay? We're not just gonna sit here and take it for the rest of our lives."

  "If we don't figure it out soon- and I'm talking weeks not months- I'm going to handle it. Alright?" They all nod. They look afraid. I hate that I made them look like that. But what the fuck else am I supposed to do here?

  Lina stays in our room and sleeps on the floor. I stay up all night. I feel like I'm boiling in rage. I'm still fucking pissed at Kelly for one thing. Kicking me out like that. I hate it. But overshadowing all of that shit is the sheer white-hot anger at my father. I really do think I could kill him. I'd probably get locked up for the rest of my life, but fuck me if it wouldn't be worth it. Lina and Christian would be safe. Manny too. I could make it look like a suicide. The pigs around here know him. I think they'd be glad enough he's dead to not look too far into the thing.

  I think about how I'd do it. How I could make it look like an accident. Hanging's nice and clean, but that means getting him in a noose without leaving roofies in his system or hitting his head. Pills would be easy enough to get in him. Just spike his beer. But I don't know if that'd be enough. The fuckface has been working on his tolerance his whole life. And if he lives, he'll make us all sorry. Probably terminally sorry for the rest of our short lives. No. Guns and knives are the only way to really end this. The only way that counts. Around three in the morning, I drift into a fog somewhere between waking and sleep. I stay there, hung in a limbo where I can't think or move, only feel, until the blaring sound of a horn shakes me awake.

  "Fuck," I mumble as I jump out of bed and start throwing clothes from the floor on. I step on Lina's hand and she shoves me off, cursing wildly. Somehow I manage to get out the door in five minutes, stumbling into Kelly's car before my eyes are even all the way open. We stare at each other for a long moment. I clear my throat. "I didn't think you'd come this morning."

  "I'm not gonna make you take the bus," he says, a ghost of his typical grin on his face. "Makes me look like an asshole. And you know I care about my image."

  "Doesn't show," I quip back. He rolls his eyes.

  "You look like shit." I run my fingers through my hair, frowning.

  "I didn't sleep." Concern flickers over his face and disappears just as fast as it appeared.

  "Why not?" he asks, staring at the road.

  "My dad. He's... well let's just say I hope he doesn't stick around long this time."

  "Shit. You can stay at my place. All of you can if you need to." I look at him, surprised.

  "Why the fuck would you say that?" I ask before I can stop myself. The anger's still there just beneath the surface and right now it doesn't have direction. It bubbles up at every chance it gets, and Kelly's face hardens once more.

  "Never mind." I'm such a fucking idiot.

  Dave's sporting a black eye and a split lip, and a savage part of me roars with satisfaction at the sight of him. Fucker had it coming. I'm sure he's planning some ill-conceived revenge. I can't wait. Next time he won't get off so easy.

  "You look rough," I say as I pass him. He scowls at me but looks at the ground after just a few seconds. He hasn't told anyone. He won't tell anyone.

  The day passes slowly. Kelly barely talks to me. Not that I care. I'm the one who wanted to stop fucking anyway. I shouldn't care if we stop talking too. We were never more than fuck-buddies. So when he laughs with some of the other mechanics, I'm not bothered. When he leaves for lunch alone in his car, I couldn't care less. But when he goes up to talk to Dave, I have to admit that it sucks. I ride beside him on the way home, but we sit in heavy silence. He barely nods a goodbye at me before taking off. I sigh, watching his car until it disappears around the corner. Fucking Kelly. I can't get him out of my head, and that's all I need to do. I'm so distracted as I walk into the house that I don't notice my father. Not until his arm wraps around my throat.

  17

  He's got me in a tight choke-hold, his sour breath in my ear and his elbow pressing into my sternum. My first instinct is to kick. My legs and arms fly out, some of them connecting, but I stop as he pushes me against the wall, his arm tightening against my pulse points. My breath hurts. I hear blood rushing past my ears. Black coils around the edges of my vision. Fuck. I'm fucked. I'm gonna fucking die right here today.

  "Who the fuck's that guy you've been coming home with all the time? The one who drives you home and you get beer with?" His breath smells like cheap whiskey and that sweet chemical smell I've come to associate with his worst moods.

  "Fuck you," I choke out. He bangs my head into the wall. Stars of pain swim in front of me. I buck back. He holds me fast.

  "Fucking Oliver Kelly? He's a fag. You know that, right? You're spending all your time with a dirty fucking fag who wants to get in your ass."

  Rage boils over. I thrash once more, leaning my head forward and bringing it back with every ounce of strength I have. I connect with a new explosion of pain, but he drops me, cursing. My vision is red and black. My fists fly but I'm not controlling them. Everything blurs and fades. Blood stains my hands. Could be mine or his. I don't know. Don't fucking care. It seems to last for hours, but finally, the world falls back into sharp focus. I'm vaguely aware of someone screaming, but I don't give a fuck. I keep hitting him after he goes down, after his eyes are glazed and he stops fighting back. It's only a gentle hand on my back that finally gives me pause.

  "You're going to kill him," Lina says, her voice tremulous. "C'mon, Gion, You gotta stop. Please. Stop." I pull away from him and slowly get to my feet, staring at his prone form on the floor.

  "Don't you ever fucking call me a queer again," I warn. There's a note of weakness in my voice, a tremble that I can't shake. He looks up at me blearily and makes no reply. I let Lina lead me to the bathroom, let her push me to sit against the tub as she wipes the blood off my hands.

  "Why is it that whenever we hang out in this house we're always wiping blood off each other?" she asks. Her hand gently comes to my cheek and I realize I'm crying as she wipes the tears away. Fuck. I never cry. But now I can't stop. It's rage mixed with an edge of fear, fear I usually push down and ignore.

  "Must be something in the water," I mutter. Tears still stream down my cheeks despite my best efforts to push them away. "Why'd you stop me? You've got more reason to want him dead than any of us."

  "I stopped him for you, fuckhead," she says. Her hand lingers on my cheek and I lean into her familiar touch. "G, you're the only one of us that's got a real shot of getting out of here. You're scrappy. You don't have an adult record. You've got this-this way of talking to people that makes em follow you. You're a fucking idiot sometimes and if you fuck one more of my friends I'll legally have to kill you. But don't throw everything you got away over him. Alright? Because I'll tell you something- he's not fucking worth it. Play it safe a few years more till you have an excuse to leave that doesn't piss him off. Then get the fuck out of here and never look back."

  Her eyes are shining now too, and a stray tear escapes her eye. She brushes it away, glaring at me like it's my fault. I pull her into a tight hug. I don't deserve Lina. Fucking no one deserves Lina. She'll have to die a nun hermit up on a mountain by fucking Everest or something. I feel my tears seeping into her shirt and hope she doesn't notice. She's anal as hell about her clothes. She hugs me back for a few seconds, before pulling away and rolling her eyes at me.

  "Such a fucking girl," she murmurs. I punch her ar
m lightly.

  "I've got to go," I say.

  She's right. I think about it the entire walk to Kelly's house. I need to stick it out until I have other decent options. I need to stop fucking some guy and start thinking about what I want for my life. The longer I keep seeing Kelly, the worse it's going to be to stop. The harder time I'll have finding a woman that makes me feel even close to the same way. All the anger's gone now. It seeped out into the ground where I left my father. What's left is a sort of cold resolve. I cling to it. I knock twice. Kelly answers. He steps outside, closing the door softly behind him.

  "What happened to you?" he asks, reaching for my neck. I pull back and his hand falls, his face falling with it.

  "Got in a fight... of sorts," I mutter. He waits. I grasp the air for words. "I can't see you anymore," I say finally. His expression barely changes. It's funny, at first I thought he was unreadable, his dramatic expressions covering up what he really thought, but I've gotten to know his expressions well enough to see the hurt in his eyes, the slight downward twitch of his lips, the spark of anger in the way his posture shifts.

  "I thought it might be something like that," he says. His leg moves to step forward, but he pulls it back. His arms flutter at his sides, then cross in front of his chest. "So what-? That's it. Forever? No drinking together, no hanging out after work? What about work?"

  "I'll go back to the bar," I say softly. "I can't- I don't think I can be around you and not- you know."