“You don’t need a wingman. You don’t even have to do anything to get the girls to come to you,” I said, keeping my tone light before fishing an ice cube out of my glass and crunching on it viciously, grinding it between my molars.
“That is so annoying, you know.” Ander eyed me, amused, and I rolled my eyes.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You’ve never told me that before.”
“Fuck off, E.” He nudged my arm playfully. “I guess I should be used to it by now since you’ve had the habit since we were six.”
“Five,” I countered.
“Nope. Six. It was right after your birthday, when my mum took us to that restaurant, remember? We could help ourselves to that drinks machine, and you filled up your cup with ice, then sat there for ages crunching all the cubes. Sooooo annoying.” His grin widened.
It was easy to fall into banter with him. It was safe ground, where we were just two friends who’d grown up together. “I’m glad you have such fond memories of our childhood.”
“I do. Remember that time you ripped your shorts on those railings, and you flashed—”
I clamped one hand over his mouth, the other going to his throat. “Do not finish that sentence unless you want me to choke you until you can’t talk anymore.”
“Kinky,” he mumbled from underneath my palm, still grinning like a lunatic. I could feel his pulse under my other hand, and I was struck by a sudden desire to run my thumb over it, followed by my mouth. My dick stirred, liking the idea way too much.
I yanked my hands away, sliding across the booth and out of the side, and waved vaguely in the direction of the door that led to the toilets. “I’ll be back.”
Being in love with my best friend was the fucking worst sometimes.
2
While I waited for Elliot to return, I glanced around Cloud’s interior. We’d skipped our Friday lectures and driven straight to Bournemouth this morning, but now it was getting later in the day, and the bar was beginning to fill. Students mixed with the after-work crowd, interspersed with a few tourists here and there. I normally came here with Elliot when we came back for a visit—it was a bit of a magnet for Bournemouth’s gay community, and if anyone needed help getting laid, it was Elliot. He was a good-looking guy, with his wavy light brown hair, clear blue eyes, angular jaw, and a lean, fit body, so he shouldn’t have had trouble finding someone. But he hardly ever seemed to pick up guys, and those he did never lasted. It concerned me because he wasn’t like me. He needed a proper relationship, someone to take care of him that he could care for in return. That was what my best friend deserved, and I hoped he’d find it one day soon.
My gaze was caught by Elliot making his way back towards me. He was right next to the wall when he was stopped in his tracks by a guy placing his hand on his arm. I frowned, staring at them. I was sure I recognised that guy…
The guy leaned into him, saying something, and I watched as Elliot’s expression changed from polite interest to horror, and then his eyes flared with panic as he sought me out.
I was already out of my seat, pushing through the crowds to him.
“What’s going on here?” I folded my arms across my chest, giving the guy my best intimidating look. He was older than me, but I was taller and bigger, and I wasn’t above using it to my advantage. Next to me, Elliot had gone silent, as stiff as a board.
“Oh, it’s you, Ander.” The guy flicked his beady gaze to me before returning it to Elliot, and the expression on his face made my skin crawl. I hadn’t been able to see his face before, but now I took in the way he blatantly leered at Elliot, his hand going to adjust the bulge forming in his trousers.
Fucking gross.
“Sorry, do I know you?” My tone was icy as I stepped forwards, angling my body so that I brushed up against Elliot’s shoulder.
“Gary. Marc’s brother. Haven’t seen you two around here for a while, but now I have, well…look at little Elliot. All grown up and pretty. I thought he might be interested in having a bit of fun with me tonight.” His fat, slimy tongue came out to lick his lips, leaving a string of drool, and I nearly gagged. I remembered him now—the older brother of one of our school friends, he’d always come across as a creep. You know how some people just make your skin crawl when you look at them? He was one of those.
“I’m not interested,” Elliot tried.
“Come on. Last I heard, you were single.” His hand went to his crotch again, and I contemplated just kneeing him in the balls, but the bar owners were strict on any kind of violence, and I didn’t want to get us barred from Elliot’s favourite place.
My mouth and body swung straight into action before my brain had a chance to keep up. “He’s not single,” I bit out in the same icy tone as I slid my arm around Elliot’s waist, pulling him into me. “He’s with me.”
Then I cupped the back of his neck with my free hand and slanted my mouth across his.
There was a shocked intake of breath, quickly followed by a sigh, and then I was suddenly making out with my best friend, backing him into the wall as our tongues slid against each other’s, and his arms came up to wrap around my back.
Fucking hell, Elliot could kiss. Where had he been hiding this skill? I kissed him harder, my mind briefly reminding me of the fact that I was kissing my best friend in the entire world, who also happened to be male, but I ignored it in favour of enjoying the way his mouth moved against mine, his heart beating rapidly against my chest as I pressed him into the wall.
He arched into me, and, oh. He was hard. Was that from kissing me? A rumble of satisfaction came from my throat, surprising me, followed by my second surprise, which was that I was also getting hard.
Well, fuck me sideways. This was a very unexpected development.
I finally broke the kiss, not that I wanted to, but the Gary guy was saying something, an irritating buzz in my ear that made me want to punch him in the mouth. I resisted. Just.
“Will you just go the fuck away? Go and bother some other person. Elliot’s not interested, and if you come on to him again, you won’t like the consequences.”
“You’re really with him?” His eyes narrowed at Elliot as he did his best to ignore me shooting daggers with my eyes. After a long moment, during which I coughed discreetly, Elliot nodded.
“Did my tongue down his throat not give you enough of a clue?” I deliberately turned my back to Gary, facing Elliot. He stared back at me, his eyes wide and wild, his high cheekbones flushed, and his lips swollen and glistening from our kiss. He looked completely stunned.
Lowering my head to his, I rubbed my palm over his back in what I hoped was a soothing way. “Hey. E. Are you okay? Talk to me.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.
“Did I break you? Was my kissing that good?”
Finally, he spoke, his voice a cracked whisper. “Did that really happen, or was it a hallucination?”
“Believe me, a hallucination couldn’t kiss you as good as the real me,” I stated, confident in my skills. I’d had plenty of opportunities to hone said skills, after all. But Elliot… “Speaking of, where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that?”