Chapter 8
By the time the guys stand up one by one, stretching and yawning, ready to take off, Kieran’s still working on his third drink. The first two caught up with him a little later than usual, forcing him to slow down.
“You staying?” Shane looks at him when Kieran gives no indication of wrapping up.
“Okay, then. See you later, alligator.” Shane salutes, waiting expectantly.
Kieran narrows his eyes at him. “Not a chance.”
Pouting a little, Shane gathers his phone and wallet and gives him a wave. “See you tomorrow at work.” The other guys chime in with their own ‘see you’s before walking out.
Kieran grunts in response, noting with dissatisfaction that none of them has an issue walking in a straight line even after chugging down three full pints of beer. Ugh, why is life so unfair?
Without company to distract him, dull as it was, it’s hard not to let his eyes wander.
Inevitably, he ends up looking towards the bar again and, to his surprise, Ash is already looking at him.
Kieran stares back out of sheer stubbornness, satisfied when Ash looks away first. He’s about to mind his own business when he sees Ash move.
He pulls the twink close, whispering something in his ear.
Gritting his teeth, simply because everything Ash does annoys him, he turns back to his drink, stabbing the bottom of the glass with the rapidly dissolving paper straw until it bends.
He’s not sure how long he stays like that, glaring at his drink as if it has personally offended him, but when his eyes involuntarily steer back to the bar, he stills.
Ash is alone, the twink nowhere to be seen. He says something to the bartender, who nods and presents him with a card terminal. After tapping his phone to it, Ash stands up and starts to turn around.
Kieran looks away before he’s caught staring again.
The twink has probably gone to the loos before Ash takes him home.
His home, or the twink’s? Who knows? Not that Kieran cares.
He’s just a teensy bit curious if Ash is the type of person to bring someone to his place, or follow them to theirs.
Probably the latter. Less hassle for him.
He can just slip out in the morning. Or the middle of the night, more likely. Asshole.
“Hey, there.”
“Eep!” Kieran grips the edge of the table just in time not to topple backwards. Shit, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
His heart rate doesn’t even get a chance to slow down when Ash takes the chair opposite him.
“Do you mind?” Kieran snaps. He fights the urge to look for the twink, but that would be too conspicuous.
Ash smiles, saccharine. “Not at all.” He smiles wider the more Kieran glares.
“Wild night for you, huh?” Kieran nods at the tall glass of water in front of Ash, filled with ice and decorated with a slice of lemon. Secretly, he wishes he had the foresight to get one for himself. His body is practically screaming for hydration.
He blinks when the glass is pushed towards him.
“That’s for you. Your liver could use some H?O.”
He’s thirsty enough that the ice looks pretty fucking delicious right now. He swears he can feel his kidneys do a little celebratory dance inside him. His hand twitches as if to move towards the glass, but thankfully his brain catches up. He curls his fingers into his palms just in case anyway.
“No fucking way am I risking drinking some spiked shit.” Fuck, he can’t believe he almost went for it.
He’d frozen the moment Shane slid the beer towards him, but Ash fucking Cleaver shows up with his stupid water and Kieran’s brain cells start popping one by one.
God, he hates this guy, hates how out of character Ash makes him feel every time they meet.
He nearly laughs at the dumbstruck expression on Ash’s face, and prepares himself for a counter-attack if Ash tries to gaslight him into drinking it.
‘Don’t be so dramatic’ or ‘You’re being so unreasonable right now’ or ‘I was being nice and you’re being a jerk’ or, his absolute favorite, ‘Why are you being so difficult?’
“Ah, yeah, you’re right. Apologies. I should’ve thought of that.” With a wince, Ash withdraws the glass, giving Kieran a smile that actually does look apologetic, ashamed even.
Um…okay.
What the hell?
It takes Kieran a good long while before he stops staring like a moron, fumbling for words.
“Twink didn’t wanna put out?” is what eventually comes out of his mouth. It must’ve been at least ten minutes since the twink in question disappeared.
Ash’s teeth flash in a grin. “If you’re referring to Cory—”
“He has a name, huh,” Kieran mumbles, abandoning the nearly completely dissolved straw and bringing the whole glass to his mouth.
“He’s a friend visiting from Perth. He wanted to catch up,” Ash explains. As if Kieran cares.
“He sure was looking at you in a very friendly way.”
With an elbow on the table, Ash rests his head in the cradle of his palm. “Are you always so perceptive?”
Perceptive, his ass. What was happening at that bar could easily qualify for soft porn. He’s not gonna point that out, though. “Nothing gets by me.”
Ash hums. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“What was that?”
A waitress appears at their table, holding a tray. “One Pina Colada mocktail?”
“That’d be me,” Ash tells her, adding a wink when she places the glass on the table. “Thanks, love.”
She blushes, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and, with her head down, all but runs away.
Kieran is pretty sure that the glare he gives Ash could burn a hole in steel. Shameless slut.
“Is that why you blew the twink off? You were in the mood for something different?”
Ash laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I mean, I like variety…” He pauses to bite into the pineapple wedge. “But I stay faithful to the phallus.”
Since he’s not currently drinking, Kieran chokes on air.
“Dude,” he wheezes. “How can you say shit like that with a straight face?”
Another laugh, louder and more obnoxious. “Sorry, darling, but nothing about me is straight.”
“So you just flirt with everything that moves for sport? And don’t call me darling.”
“What should I call you, then?”
“Just my n—” He catches himself. “You know what? We shouldn’t even be talking.”
“Why not? I’m quite enjoying this.”
“Taking the piss?”
“Your company.”
A strange sound catching in his throat, Kieran bares his teeth and orders, “Drink your girly drink and shut up.”
“Not a fan?” Ash obligingly takes a sip. It’s a testament to how drunk Kieran is that his gaze fixes on the way Ash’s lips wrap tightly around the straw, cheeks hollowing. “Pineapple juice is good for you.”
It takes a second for the meaning to land. “First of all, gross.” He makes a face. “Second, our last meeting should’ve told you that’s not something I have to worry about. I’m basically in the Sahara now.” Shit. TMI. And he said that to Ash of all people. What the hell is wrong with him?
Ash drags his gaze over him in a painfully slow manner. “I’d be happy to help you out of there.”
Kieran really must be getting used to Ash’s shenanigans. Instead of sending some colorful words his way, he can only muster a tired sigh. “You have a problem.”
“I’d say I have many—”
“If you’re so horny, you should’ve gone with the twink,” Kieran blurts out, clamping his mouth shut a second too late.
Why does the twink bother him so much, anyway?
He’s always disliked PDA, but it never got him this worked up.
Or maybe it’s the noticeable age-gap between the two, reminding him all too much of Dawson and Cal.
Or maybe, and that’s probably what it is, anything involving Ash is a constant irritant. Yeah, that’d make sense.
“It’s not what I wanted.”
Kieran pauses, a little surprised he got an actual response. Ash has been content ignoring Kieran’s jabs, or answering with sarcastic remarks.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Kieran asks, “Why? He was cute. Ready to bend over backwards. Or forwards.”
Ash chuckles. “True.”
“So what? Easy prey isn’t your type?” Kieran pushes when it seems Ash has reverted back to monosyllabic answers.
“I think you know my type,” Ash drawls in a voice an octave lower than usual. His eyes darken, raking over Kieran’s face.
Something funny is happening to his stomach, reminding him of that unsettling feeling of weightlessness you get before the steep drop on a rollercoaster.
“I swear, you’ve been put on this planet for the sole purpose of pissing me off.” Okay, so he might not be as immune to the shenanigans as he’d hoped.
Throwing his head back, Ash laughs. It’s a boisterous sound, drawing the attention of several patrons.
Kieran stares at him in a weird kind of trance. It’s the first time seeing Ash react to something so freely, making the moment feel almost surreal. Simply put, it’s freaking weird, which, Kieran decides, is what must be causing this squirmy, vaguely uncomfortable sensation in his belly.
“Why so grouchy? I’m not doing anything,” Ash says when his laughter has subsided. Then the stupid smirk is back in place, ironically putting Kieran at ease.
“Your mere existence is driving me up the fucking wall.” Honestly, the emotional distress this fucker puts him through should be a legally punishable offence.
Then he remembers what they’ve been talking about, and his blood reaches a boiling point again. “So that’s it? You want a challenge to get your rocks off?”
“I do like a challenge,” Ash admits easily. “But that’s not the case here, no.”
Now he’s pretending to be all mysterious and shit again. Well, whatever. Kieran’s not gonna fall for it. He won’t indulge him anymore.
At least, that’s the plan, but then his mouth takes over, utterly betraying him.
“So what is?”
Ash smirks, like he won a game. Fuck.
“Is it so hard to believe that I simply enjoy that temper of yours?”