Page 20 of Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters
“I think…” Vikash stared fixedly at the row of bottles on the counter. “The sofa pulls out. We’re off tomorrow. I’d feel better if you stayed the night.”
Kyle opened the door to the dishwasher, only half his attention on loading the dishes. “You know, you are a real mother hen sometimes. I’m fine and it’s not like— Ow! Rotten fucking donkey balls!” He plucked the paring knife from the side of his hand where he’d managed to stab himself. “Teach me to look first.”
“Let me see.” Vikash reached for him, the little worry V between his eyebrows.
“I’m fine, damn it. Just stupid.”
“Distracted, not stupid.” Vikash grabbed his wrist, his grip gentle but his long fingers creating an unbreakable restraint. “Just…shh. Bleeding.”
Before Kyle could struggle free or mount another protest, Vikash had his hand under the faucet, washing out the half-inch cut. He reached over and snagged a paper towel, gently dabbing at the blood.
“Am I gonna live, doc?” Kyle forced out as inappropriate, happy little fireflies zinged out through his body from the points where Vikash touched him.
“I think you might. Not as bad as I thought.” His eyes widening, Vikash held Kyle’s hand between them, drying it as carefully as he might have handled a baby mouse. He stopped suddenly and pressed the hand to his chest. “Kyle…”
“This…” Kyle swallowed hard, staring up into blue eyes that suddenly shone with a heart-rending vulnerability. “You know this is such a bad idea.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Vikash whispered as he leaned closer.
“You should be. Getting a man drunk and taking advantage,” Kyle murmured against soft lips suddenly pressed against his own. “Kash, I—”
Vikash stopped him by covering his mouth and pulling him close, his kiss as tentative and gentle as his hands. “Did I tell you I have a thing for gingers?”
“Green-eyed gingers?”
“Yeah.”
“No.” Kyle wrapped an arm around Vikash’s back, stroking the hard muscles along his spine.This is beyond stupid. I can’t do this. Why can’t I pull away?“You didn’t.”
“Damn. Probably should have.” Vikash released the hand he’d been clutching and cupped Kyle’s face, his fingers stroking into Kyle’s regulation-short hair. “Sorry.”
“Of all the times for you to pick to talk too much,” Kyle growled.
He gave up fighting the reins and let his body have what it wanted, surging forward to press Vikash against the counter, attacking his lips with ferocious need. Vikash’s lips parted on a soft moan and Kyle seized the advantage, spearing his tongue inside that hot, spice-infused mouth. Arms tightened around Kyle, all of Vikash’s careful, oversocialized behavior evaporated. He slid his hands down to cup Kyle’s ass, his mouth answering with wild ferocity that shocked Kyle into a whimper.
Vikash broke the kiss, pulling back to search Kyle’s face, his eyes dazed and glassy. “It’s all right. It will be. We’re attracted. We like each other. This doesn’t have to be a big thing, right? Comfort. Between friends.”
Friends? Okay, I can do friends. Better than a quickie we pretend didn’t happen in the morning. Comfortable is good.“It’s amazing none of your lovers ever killed you.”
“Why?”
“’Cause you gab more during making out than you do when you’resupposedto be talking.”
Vikash smiled and put a finger to his lips. He disentangled partway from Kyle’s embrace, closed the dishwasher then took Kyle’s hand to tug him toward the back of the apartment.
The bedroom had more of anI just moved herevibe than the rest of the place. Pictures sat on the floor, presumably below their intended spots on the wall. Boxes still lined the space beside the closet. Nothing messy about it—no clothes lay strewn across the floor, no dirty dishes scattered about. It just felt unlived in, as if Vikash wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to stay, or maybe he’d lost the desire to finish unpacking. Kyle found something achingly sad in the strictly regimented incompletion.
A queen-size sleigh bed dominated the center of the room, its head and footboard carved with vines. Neatly made with a burgundy duvet and ivory throw pillows, it was the only point in the room that felt permanent and stable. Kyle nudged Vikash backward until they stood beside the mattress. He had to rise up on his toes for a kiss, which he refused to be embarrassed about, as he started undoing the buttons of Vikash’s chamois shirt.
Vikash had it easier and simply tugged Kyle’s sweater up and over his head, but Kyle enjoyed the slow unwrapping, the pumpkin color of the material beautiful against Vikash’s bronze skin. He uncovered a mostly hairless chest, natural, he believed, rather than waxed or some other nonsense. Long and lean, every part of Vikash fit that description. Nothing overworked or rigidly defined, just toned and gorgeous.
He slid the shirt down Vikash’s arms, stopping to gape when he uncovered the gorgeous tattoo on Vikash’s arm. Nine miniature dragons in flight, their bodies crossing and intertwining, decorated his skin from shoulder to elbow. One gold, two bronze, three brown, two green and one blue—something struck Kyle as significant about the number and colors. He traced the gold one’s delicate head and it hit him.
“Fire lizards. You have Menolly’s fire lizards on your arm.”
“You read those books?”
“Damn straight.” Kyle smiled as he traced the blue fire lizard’s sleepy eye. “Loved Pern. Cried over some of those books, since I wanted my own dragon so bad.”
