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“I said that out loud?” Liam squeaked. “Shit, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s why I have the ribbons there. People ask me what they represent, and I talk to them about it.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, and even though King was clearly open about whatever his sexuality was, it was still personal to him. It was also a risk to be open with people; there were a lot of bigoted fucks out there. Was King putting himself at risk by advertising his sexuality, whatever that was? King added, “I identify as bisexual. I date both men and women. The same as Eli.”
Liam looked up, meeting his gaze. His throat was tight and his words had fled. King was bi? It was as if a door leading to endless possibilities had opened in front of him. Symphonies played and choirs sang, celebrating this moment. Every fantasy Liam had hatched up with King and Addy, every inexperienced, fumbling kiss that his mind had conjured up with King suddenly seemed possible. Not probable, because he had to face reality—King and Addy were in an exclusive relationship. It wasn’t as if he could realistically ever dream to catch the man’s attention. But knowing King had been with men before… he internally groaned, wishing he could reach down and adjust his semi. Imagining that big broad man wrapped around another one, grappling each other for dominance. Damn.
Liam flicked his gaze up and met King’s. His eyes were wary. Guarded. “Um,” he started, not knowing what to say. He wanted to thank King for trusting Liam enough to tell him. For being open with him. King slid into the chair opposite Liam—the one next to Addy’s—almost as far away from him as he could get and sighed. Liam started babbling, desperately trying to communicate what was going through his mind. “Your trust means a lot. I don’t imagine that you share that kind of information a lot, but then again why would you have the ribbons on your bag if you didn’t, right? Anyway, I appreciate you sharing it with me. It doesn’t make a difference, just so you know. I’ve always had Lij’s back and I’d do the same for you. I just want you safe. It’s dangerous and people are shitty. But it’s cool that you can be true to yourself. Yeah, cool. You’re cool.”
Liam stopped talking and looked up at King with wide eyes as the heat crawled up his throat along his cheeks. King bit his lip, trying to hide a smirk, but the snort that escaped him had Liam giggling. Within minutes, they were both laughing, King holding his stomach as Liam wiped tears from his face. The ridiculousness of his commentary hovered between them and set him off again every time he met King’s gaze.
“You’re cool too, you big dork,” King rasped before launching into a fit of laughter again.
Liam was hyperaware of every touch, every look between them, during the tutoring session that followed. King was more reserved, encouraging him as he worked without his hands on Liam. He hated it. He wanted the casual brushes and the reassuring squeeze. He wanted to be held by him, to touch him back. But King pulled away every time they came into contact. Liam shifted in his seat, inhaling King’s spicy scent, needing their connection.
He closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward. He sighed, desolation stealing through him. It was as if he was being punished—King withholding his affection because of Liam’s stupid fumbling.
“What’s wrong?” King asked softly. “We can wrap up if you’d rather finish early, and we don’t have to do dinner if you don’t want to, tonight or any other night.” His words were quiet and resigned, as if it was a foregone conclusion that their friendship was coming to an end. Bugger that. Liam wouldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know what to say. I got flustered. I didn’t know about your sexuality, but then when we were laughing, I thought you forgave me for screwing up.” Liam swallowed around the lump in his throat, desperate for the return of his friend. “But you keep pulling away. It’s as if you don’t want to touch me anymore, like I disgust you.”
“I…” King blew out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. It’s not you. It was me. I was worried about your reaction after you knew. It wasn’t like I was trying to hide from you. I just never realized that I’m a hands-on person. It hadn’t ever occurred to me that it’s what I did with you, but then Adds mentioned it, and you noticed my ribbons and I freaked out.”
“Why?” Liam implored, confused. Why would he freak out?
“I’m scared.” King looked at him through lowered lashes. Curled in on himself, he was hiding. Making himself a smaller target. He’d seen Lij do the same. He’d done it too. Not to dodge punches like Lij, but to avoid the verbal barbs his parents had tossed his way his whole childhood. Liam reached out, curling his hand over King’s forearm, and squeezed, trying to comfort and encourage him the way King always did. His friend’s gaze dropped to where they were joined and he shuddered, the breath he sucked in choppy. King spoke again, his voice hesitant, “I got scared that you wouldn’t appreciate me touching you, knowing that I’m attracted to men too.”
Liam was struck dumb. He couldn’t get thoughts of King and Addy out of his head. When he closed his eyes, the images he’d tried and failed miserably to repress popped up in his mind’s eye. Every time it was an X-rated slideshow. Big hands digging into thick muscle—his muscle—before gliding up to hook under his shoulders. His mouth on smooth skin, dewy from the heat of their exchange. Masculine and feminine hands sliding down to tease the patch of soft skin at the juncture of his thigh. A hairy chest pressed against his back, a smooth one at his front, three sets of hips rocking and grinding together.
Above it all, the images that stuck with him the most were the kisses. Two sets of stubbled jaws brushing gently against each other as he tasted Addy’s lips. Delicate fingers tangled in his hair and pouty lips nipped at his shoulder. Traded kisses. A soft exhale and slow touches, lips pressing together and tongues tenderly caressing.
Happiness. Love.
How could Liam not want it?
He swallowed down the question he was desperate to ask—was King attracted to Liam?—and slid his hand down to King’s, grasping it. The invisible personal space barrier that normally operated with mates was nowhere to be seen between them, and that’s exactly how Liam wanted it. It hadn’t even disintegrated with Addy that quickly or so completely in the time they studied together.
With their gazes locked, Liam raised King’s hand to his shoulder and held it there until King squeezed, before moving to Liam’s nape and tugging him closer. Resting their foreheads together, Liam shivered, King’s closeness triggering a need in him that was as unfamiliar as it was exciting and intimidating. “I’ve never not appreciated you, King,” he admitted.
The night before when they’d made gnocchi, and Liam was full and replete, he’d fallen asleep on King’s shoulder. King had shifted so Liam could stretch out, resting his head in King’s lap as the other man ran his fingers through Liam’s hair, massaging his scalp. It had been perfectly innocent, but Liam had wanted to curl into King. To hear Addy’s sweet voice and to hold her like he had when she’d left. But King and Addy were together. They were an item. He was literally the third wheel. He had to stop reading something deeper in every touch. It was exactly why King had pulled back. Exactly what his concern was. He just didn’t know that Liam was desperate for it to be true rather than the opposite. The stupid hope he held out was terrifying.
His heart wanted more of it.
So did his body.
If an innocent squeeze, or hug was all he could ever have, Liam would treasure it. He’d treasure every moment of praise. Liam wanted the impossible. His tutor, and the woman he couldn’t get out of his head—his best mate’s little sister. All he could do was dream.
*****
He leaned into King’s side, nuzzling their foreheads together. King squeezed his nape, before sliding his hand down Liam’s back, tugging him closer. King manhandled him, pulling him one handed onto his lap. Liam straddled him, and King raised that strong arm of his, shifting so his fingers were buried in Liam’s hair. The shiver that tore through him was embarrassing as fuck, but King’s barely audible gasp had his dick standing to attention. King shifted, pulling their hips closer until their shafts were pressed together. They were both hard. Both wanting. Liam purred, King’s hands on his bare skin magical. A brush of their lips and Liam closed his eyes, the ghost of that touch lingering. His cock tented his underwear, lifting the waistband and poking out above it.
Want flowed through his veins like a river. His cock throbbed and King hummed, pressing their lips together again. Their tongues tangled and King slipped his hand down Liam’s underwear, fisting his dick. He moaned, reaching back to grasp the warm body behind him. Addy.
They shifted then and Addy wrapped herself around King. He thrust inside her and Liam watched enraptured where they connected. Hearing the soft moans and the deeper growls and the shlick, shlick, shlick of his hand working his cock pulled him closer to the edge. The two people he was falling for—or maybe already had—turned to him in sync and tugged him closer. Addy’s lips closed around his shaft while King arched up, licking his balls.
Liam cried out, his eyes jolting open. It was dark, a sliver of moonlight peeking in between the blinds when the breeze blew them open. Alone, star-fished on the bed naked, his cock stood to attention, pre-cum leaking from his slit down onto his belly. He ached, his dick throbbing. It begged for attention. Liam grasped his length, his fingers spreading the pre-cum down, slicking his way and moaned. He was harder than he’d been in months, already on the edge after his dream. Why did he have to wake? Why couldn’t he have stayed there, pretending he had it all.
Closing his eyes, and breathing hard, he willed it to come back. His dream didn’t, but his mind’s eye conjured up a scene worthy of any porn movie. Liam sucked on his fingers, tasting himself, and wet them, letting spit drip from them as he dragged them down between his legs. What would it be like if King slid his thick digits between Liam’s cheeks? His hole clenched and he circled it, wetting his pucker before pressing against his hole.
It wasn’t enough. He needed the stretch. Would it burn? It didn’t matter. Every nerve ending in him was alight. Lighting up like an Australia Day fireworks extravaganza. He pushed forward, breaching himself with his fingertip.
