12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Jake
Jake’s stomach flopped as fire burned through, sparking from his lips, across his cheeks, down his throat, until it finally filled him to the brim.
He jerked back and looked Quinn dead on, trying not to focus too much on the all-too-inviting flush in his cheeks. Right there, where he could reach out and touch Quinn’s face, feel the heat rising up through his skin.
Quinn leaned back. “I’m so sorry. That’s not why I invited you in.”
“It’s okay.” Jake shifted back a little bit, letting the couch support more of his back, since every bone in his body was melting into a puddle of lust-filled goo. “I’m not mad. I’m…surprised.” Definitely not mad. Holy shit. He could still feel Quinn on his lips and it took everything in him not to lean back in, slip his tongue into Quinn’s mouth, drag his fingers up and down that slim back.
“I…fuck.” Quinn jumped to his feet and started pacing, staring at the floor, at his feet, apparently anywhere other than at Jake. “I’ve been trying to squash out this crush, and instead I kissed you. What the hell is wrong with me?”
A crush. Jake did his best not to smile, but he still let a grin slip out. Not like Quinn was paying attention to him. “I’m not offended. I mean, I might be a little now, since you think having a crush on me means there’s something wrong with you.”
Quinn froze and whipped his head around. “No, no. I’m not…it’s me. Not you. You’re too…”
He bent his head down and smacked his temples, over and over. Jake frowned, got up, and walked to him to grab his wrists. “Hey. Why are you hitting yourself?”
Quinn looked up at him, eyes wide and dark. “This isn’t what I should be doing. What we should be doing. You’re here for, what, three weeks?”
“About that.”
“Right. So we get together while you’re here, you fix my house, then you leave and…”
Jake nodded, releasing his wrists, but not stepping back. “You don’t want to get attached and have me split.”
He nodded. “And that’s what has to happen. That’s how this works by design.”
Jake finally took a tiny step back, just enough that there was some breathing space. He didn’t want Quinn to feel closed in when he was already panicking. And finally opening up. “I should apologize too.”
Quinn snorted. “For what?”
“I shouldn’t have been pushing as much as I was. You’re obviously dealing with some grief, and the work on the house is really picking away at you. I kept wanting to make sure you were okay, but you weren’t up for that. I wasn’t listening to the signals you were giving and I pushed and you couldn’t take it. That’s not good on my part.” Jake nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I am.” Jake sighed and, after a moment of hesitation, brushed a few strands of hair away from Quinn’s face, tucking them back behind his ear. “I think we might need to figure out how we can fit together while I’m here. Since neither one of us seems to be getting over our crush.”
Quinn sucked in a breath. “You have a crush? On me?”
“Yeah, really hard to believe I caught feelings for a cute twink who loves his grandpa and plays video games and does smart business boy shit for a living.” Jake’s face burned, but he held eye contact. “Yes. On you. Guilty as charged.”
A few seconds, then Quinn moved over to the couch and sat down, and Jake retook his seat. He didn’t intend to push, so he sat, made his body relax as much as he could, and waited until Quinn finally spoke again. Softer, hoarser, but without the tight tinge of panic to his voice. “I don’t know. I see cute guys all the time. But for some reason, I can’t shake you off. I’ve been burned, getting involved with guys based on…hormones. So I know better, and I know better than to pursue something that just isn’t likely to work out. I’m sorry if that’s rude.”
“Not rude. Everyone has to do what’s right for them. You. Me. The president. Whoever.”
Quinn chuckled. “Anyway. I don’t know what I want to do. But apparently, what I don’t want is to stop talking with you and spending time with you.”
“Well, I’m not a scientist or anything, but the evidence might suggest one thing you want do is kiss me.” Jake shrugged. “But I didn’t go to college, so I could be looking at the data wrong.”
Quinn laughed. Not a nervous laugh, but an actual one, that spread a smile on his full face, even if it didn’t last very long. “I did like that. Is it weird to say you have nice lips?”
“Super weird.” Jake hesitated a second, then reached over and patted his knee. “Sugar scrub. Takes off all the chapped skin and shit and moisturizes them.”
Quinn grimaced. “I don’t know how I feel about that. Sounds kind of gay.”
“Oh, it’s very gay. Comes in a pretty pink jar, tastes like bubblegum.” He smacked his lips, then licked them. “But it gets the job done, if I can believe what you’re saying.” Jake sighed and rolled his head around, working out his neck and shoulders. “Can I make a suggestion? On how to go forward with all this?”
Quinn nodded. “Please do. My god. I’m not making any decisions that work right now.”
“Well, you still have to make a decision. Sorry.” Jake rolled his shoulders next, then sighed. “I think, hear me out, we should just accept that this is short-term. Going in with eyes open, no one gets hurt too bad, right? We can have our fun, you get a house out of the deal. If neither of us think this is anything other than making out or blow jobs or whatever—no pressure to do anything more than you want to, I’m just spitballing—then it kind of controls expectations, right?”
Quinn sat and looked up at the ceiling, eyes going side-to-side and up and down as if he was plugging in numbers to some invisible calculator. If he has a formula for figuring out if a guy is worth screwing around with, he should sell it.
Eventually, Quinn nodded. “I guess that makes sense. But is that going to get in the way of the show?”
Jake shook his head, even though he had no actual idea. “If we don’t do anything on the job site or on camera, what is anyone going to say? Worst case, this show actually gets massive and something gets out, some tabloid runs a story. Seems unlikely, but I guess it’s always a possibility to consider.”
Quinn nodded, smiled softly in a way that certainly didn’t make him less appealing. Then he nodded. “One other important thing, though: what if a crush turns into something deeper?”
Jake didn’t answer right away. Clearly, that was a stumbling block for Quinn. Plus, it could easily impact him, too, even if he didn’t feel like that was likely. Jake was no stranger to random friends-with-benefits situations. He also knew that, with this cute, smart gamer boy who liked to stay home and enjoyed mid-century modern furniture and was actively interested in him, he could very well fall. Hard. “Well, like I said, it’s not a me-only sort of decision. But for me, I wouldn’t want to deny myself something just because there’s a risk. Not everything goes the way I hope, but I’d rather enjoy the roller coaster than skip it entirely because the cars might slip the track.”
Quinn smiled softly. “I though you weren’t good at metaphors.”
“Was that a metaphor?”
No response from Quinn. Jake kept his face as flat and open as he could while Quinn sat, hopefully considering the options. Hopefully agreeing with me. Now that things were out in the open between them and Quinn apparently didn’t hold any grudges against him for prying too much, Jake very much wanted another kiss. More than a kiss.
Quinn’s answer had zero to do with kissing. “You never said if you were into fighting games or not.”
Jake took a couple seconds, then nodded. “I’ve been known to mix it up in some Armored Spirit or Vital Warrior from time-to-time.”
Quinn jumped to his feet. “Armored Spirit Three okay?”
“I love it. Don’t get to play it enough, but I’m pretty sure I can kick the butt of some financial wizard or whatever your job title is.”
“Oh please. Financial wizard is entry level. Practically an intern. My proper title is fiduciary warlock.” Quinn’s voice was still tight and clipped, but he was trying, and Jake still knew he shouldn’t pry. Let him take control. Even if he’s still feeling awkward.
They went up the single riser to his sleeping area, past the bed that Jake refused to focus on, to a linen closet. Or what should have been a linen closet. When Jake opened it, he had several consoles tucked inside, all neat and tidy and even, as well as a variety of actual physical games and several peripherals. And extra controllers, which was all he grabbed. A second controller that, frankly, looked like it had never seen a minute of use.
Quinn wiped a thin layer of dust from it with the hem of his shirt—Jake would be lying if he said he didn’t take the chance to catch a peek of his exposed abdomen, flat with an outie belly button and a thin trail of dark hair leading down under his waistband—then handed it to Jake. “Show me how you can kick my butt, then.”
Jake popped his foot up to the side and tapped it against one cheek, nudging Quinn slightly forward. He tried not to like it too much, even as heat raced across his face. “Like that. Not complicated.”
Quinn just rolled his eyes and headed back for the sofa.