Sebastian Keane groaned as he looked down at his beer-soaked T-shirt. “This is not the way karma is supposed to work.”
The guy who had spilled his beer all over Sebastian--and himself--looked up from where he was mopping up his own shirt. “I’m sorry?”
“No, nothing, I just...” Sebastian shook his head and laughed bitterly as he fingered the dripping garment. “I just threw my own beer all over the guy I came here with about three minutes ago, so it’s kind of, I dunno, karmic in a twisted way.”
The guy tossed his half-empty cup into a nearby trash can and took a second to evaluate Sebastian. “Why’d you throw your beer on him?”
“Hm? Oh, because his boyfriend showed up screaming at both of us.” Sebastian shrugged. He was still pissed off at Russell. Sebastian didn’t get picked up very often, no matter what his friends thought, and his only unbreakable rule was honesty. He hated being lied to. Russell had told Sebastian at the party last night that he was single. The guy who’d lunged at Russell and had to be restrained by his friends would beg to differ. “I don’t have a problem with sharing, but if that’s the way he wants to roll, he should’ve told his boyfriend. And me.”
The corner of the guy’s mouth quirked up, and Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the faint ghost of a dimple in his cheek. Great. He was always a sucker for dimples.
“Can’t argue with you there. You know, why don’t you come over here and let me get you a new shirt. That one’s going to smell awful when the beer starts drying.” The guy stuck out his hand to shake, and Sebastian took it automatically. “I’m Keith, by the way.”
“Baz.” Sebastian’s roommate, Jason, had dubbed him with the unlikely nickname a year ago, and somewhere along the line, Sebastian had gotten used to introducing himself as such.
Keith’s eyebrow ticked up in apparent amusement. “Yeah, okay. C’mon, kitten, let’s get you out of those clothes.”
” Keith had started walking away before he’d even stopped speaking, and Sebastian had to jog to catch up. “What the fuck is that supposed to be? A come on?”
“Now did I say anything about coming on you?”
Sebastian blinked as he tried to process that sentence in any way except the dirty double entendre he’d heard to begin with. His temper sparked, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Just because he dressed a certain way didn’t mean he was a slut, willing to put out for just anyone--even if they did have perfect dimples and blue eyes to die for. “You know what? I don’t live that far from here. I’ll go home and change.” He flashed a saccharine-sweet smile and spun on his heel.
He supposed he really shouldn’t have been surprised when a hand grabbed his elbow.
“Hey, slow down, kit--uh, kid.” Keith pulled him around so they were face-to-face, and Sebastian thought he might have been more inclined to forgive if Keith hadn’t been obviously two seconds away from laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Let me get you another shirt, really. It’s not that big of a deal.”
This was turning out to be the worst Pride ever. The cute guy he’d come with already had a boyfriend and had lied about it, he’d lost his very expensive cup of beer to the good cause of a dramatic gesture, and now this son of a bitch was patronizing him. At twenty-one, beer was still at a premium; as a college student, his hard-earned cash was even more valuable; and this guy might be as hot as the devil’s asshole, but that didn’t mean he got to treat Sebastian like a two-dollar whore.
“No, really.” Sebastian backed away, fishing his wallet out of his too-tight jeans and pulling out his last ten-dollar bill. “Here. Go get yourself another beer. Sorry about the other one. Have a nice day.”
The bastard had bumped into him
, but Sebastian just wanted out. Now.
Keith waved him off. “Thanks, ki...Baz, but that’s okay.” Keith’s smile was somehow both condescending and admiring, and Sebastian felt his face turning hot with rage. Who did this guy think he was?
A very harried-looking man who gave the impression that he lived on antacids and coffee and not much else came scurrying up, a plastic badge on a lanyard flapping in the breeze. “Mr. Black, they want you backstage for a sound check. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
This last was said accusingly, the man’s eyes narrowing at Keith--oh shit
. Keith Black. Sebastian had to be the only gay boy on his campus who didn’t have Keith Black on his MP3 player, mostly because after the first five hundred times his friends had played Keith’s big single, “Walk Through Fire” or “Fly Through Fire” or something equally obnoxious, Sebastian had never wanted to hear the name again. Maybe he would have paid more attention if he’d known the guy looked like this.
“Sure, Ron. Sorry you had to come looking for me.” Keith glanced over at Sebastian and said, “If this young man will let you, would you grab a shirt in his size from one of the booths? I owe him a replacement. Give him a VIP package too, if he’ll take it, as an apology.”
Before Sebastian could complain that he was right there
, dammit, Keith turned a dimpled smile on him full-force, and his knees went weak.
“I would say I’m sorry for bumping into you, kid, but it was a pleasure to meet you, so that would be a lie. But I do hope the rest of your day goes better.”
Keith headed off in the direction of the amphitheater, and Ron gave Sebastian a look of utter surprise. Sebastian realized he was still standing there with his wallet in his hand and a beer stain on his shirt, and he blushed as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.
“Um, sir...?” Ron looked like he might start rooting in his pockets for a roll of Tums any second now. “Would you--that is...”
Sebastian took pity on the poor guy. “Size small,” he said, trying not to sigh. He was skinny on top of being embarrassingly short. It made it far too easy for guys like Keith Black not to take him seriously. He thought about refusing the shirt on principle but figured he should at least have a souvenir from this bizarre experience. Plus, on a college-student budget, free clothes were not to be turned down. “Thank you.”
“Right.” Ron still sounded a little bit weirded out by the whole thing, and Sebastian thought he knew exactly
how the dude felt.
* * * *
“You have that look on your face.”
Keith gazed up at his lover, Adam Cruce, from his stretched-out position on the floor. “What look is that?”
“The one that says you’ve found your target for the evening and have your eye on him.” Adam smiled as he dropped to the floor beside Keith, apparently unconcerned with getting his clothes dirty or wrinkled. There were many things Keith loved about Adam, but his unselfconsciousness was possibly first on that list. It was something Keith had never managed to attain. “Is he pretty?”
“He’s too pretty for words.” Keith sighed, thinking of the college-boy twink he’d bumped into. “I spilled my beer on him.”
Adam winced through his laughter. “Jesus. No one who sees you dance would know what an epic klutz you are. Was he mad?”
“As a wet cat.”
“So now you want him even more because he was pissed at you and didn’t fall for your charm. Is that it?”
Keith narrowed his eyes at his lover before pulling himself into a sitting position, nose to nose with him. “I thought we’d had this discussion before.”
Adam was still laughing, his breath tickling over Keith’s lips, tempting him with the thought of dragging Adam off to the rehearsal room and locking the door. Or maybe not locking the door--sometimes having an audience spiced things up. “Which discussion is that?”
“The one where you agreed not to read my mind.” Keith couldn’t help himself; he brushed a quick kiss over Adam’s mouth.
“I don’t remember signing that clause in our prenup, babe. You’re making things up again.” But Adam kissed him back before he could argue that he wasn’t making things up, dammit, and besides that, they didn’t even have a prenup. It was kind of hard to have prenuptial agreements when there weren’t any nuptials.
“How long do you have before you have to go on?” Adam nipped at his lips, distracting him, making it difficult to answer. He was thinking about getting even more distracted--Adam was good enough to eat in fitted jeans and a hilariously conservative polo, and a dirty little blowjob on the floor was just what the doctor ordered--when he remembered why he was backstage in the first place.
“Unfortunately”--he sighed--“they want me for sound checks in about five minutes, and we’re good, but we’re not that good.” He put his hand in the middle of Adam’s chest and pushed back, but he lost his resolve halfway there and stroked down to Adam’s stomach to tug at his belt buckle instead. He slipped his hand behind the waistband of Adam’s jeans and grinned. “Maybe I can be five minutes late. Dressing room?”
“Men’s room is closer.”
“But not as empty, and babe, as much as I love showing you off, I’d rather us not get arrested for it.”
Adam grinned and licked Keith’s lips, taking a moment to palm Keith’s crotch through his tight--and getting tighter by the second--leather pants. “All right. Dressing room. But hurry up.”
Keith had plans to suck Adam off, but as soon as they were inside the room with the door closed and locked, Adam shoved Keith against the wall and went to his knees, taking Keith’s pants and underwear with him.
“Tell me about the boy,” Adam demanded as he palmed Keith’s cock. He looked up through long golden eyelashes, the smattering of freckles across his nose giving him an innocent air that made his current position that much hotter. He jacked Keith’s erection with firm, steady pulls, flicking his tongue over the head. “The one you wanted to pick up. Tell me about him.”
, baby!” As soon as Keith started talking, Adam fastened his mouth over the head of Keith’s dick and sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks. Adam gave him a reprimanding look, and Keith took a deep breath. If he didn’t keep going, Adam would quit. “He...he was young, probably in college... At least twenty-one, ’cause he’d bought a beer.” Keith couldn’t help the way his hips bucked, pushing his dick deeper into Adam’s mouth. “Although maybe he just batted his eyelashes at the bartender and gave him a blowjob behind the counter.”
Adam made a humming noise that, at any other time, Keith would have cataloged as “thoughtful.” At the moment, it sounded dirty and delicious and felt fucking amazing.
“He was tiny--less than five-five, easy--and skinny. Prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Blue-green eyes...glitter and eyeliner, all glammed up.” Adam’s mouth screwed down the length of Keith’s dick, and he lost his train of thought for a minute. Adam cupped Keith’s balls in his hand and squeezed, just enough to remind Keith he was supposed to be talking.
, baby, yeah... He was...” He slid his hand into Adam’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. Adam sucked harder, and Keith struggled to keep talking. “Two-tone hair...black roots, blond tips. Mouth you’d pay to see around your dick. Fucking perfect little nose.”
Adam started choking, and Keith managed to get enough control of himself to let go of Adam’s hair and let him pull back. He didn’t expect Adam to pull all the way off--or to be laughing.
Keith scowled. “Shut up and suck my dick, bitch.” The words lost most of their heat since Keith was laughing too. “And yeah, his nose.” Adam was still snickering, but he must have realized they’d used up at least all of Keith’s five minutes and were probably getting close to ten more, because he managed to at least stop smiling long enough to stuff Keith’s cock back into his mouth.
Keith moaned as he sank into the wet heat of Adam’s mouth. Waves of red-tinted pleasure rippled through him. He was pretty sure Adam had learned to suck dick from either an angel or a whore; nobody Keith had ever met sucked his cock like Adam did. He wondered how the college boy would do. Speaking of...
“He’d fit perfectly between us, babe.” Keith shut his eyes and imagined that exquisite little body between them, all three of them slick with sweat as they moved together. “Maybe he’d even take us both at the same time, both our cocks shoved into his tight little hole...”
Adam groaned around his dick, and Keith gasped, yanking on Adam’s hair.
“Babe, I’m...I’m com--oh shit, baby, yeah!
Adam swallowed him down, pulling back in time to catch the last droplets on his lips, and then grinned up at Keith as he licked them off slowly and deliberately.
“Fuck,” Keith panted, sliding down the wall. Adam climbed over him and kissed him, sharing the last traces of flavor, and Keith tilted his head, inviting Adam’s tongue deeper. “I swear to God,” Keith said when they parted. “You get better every single time. I wish I had time to pay you back, but...”
“Mm.” Adam kissed him again. “You can owe me.” He stood up and reached down to help Keith to his feet, then fussed with Keith’s hair as Keith pulled his underwear and leather pants back up. The leather was harder to get on now that his skin was damp with sweat, but he wriggled into it anyway.
He’d just gotten the fly done up when there was a pounding on the door.
“Keith? You horny bastard, get the fuck out here. They’re gonna kick us off the stage without a sound check if you’re not there in three minutes.”
Adam laughed and yelled through the door, “Hold your horses, Manny. He’s zipping up.”
“Shoulda known it was your fault this time,” the drummer called back. “Everyone thinks he corrupted you, but some of us know it was the other way around.”
Keith had himself put back together by then, and he pulled open the door and shoved past Manny. “Come on, dude. Stop flirting with my boyfriend and let’s go.”
“See ya, Manny,” Adam called, not sounding the least bit repentant.
Keith saw Manny flip up his middle finger at Adam and grinned. They made it onto the stage with thirty seconds to spare.
M. Jules Aedin