Running Wild

My grandfather once told me it’s like we have exceptional abilities to read people, and we should use that skill.” His voice softened. “I don’t mean to alarm you.”
“I’m not alarmed so much as embarrassed.”
“About what?”
Seamus twisted his lips. He wasn’t going there. Ri would have to bring it forward, since he was the one in such a bad situation.
Ri laid it right out on the table. “I don’t know why you’d be attracted to someone like me. I’m a complete mess.”

Chapter Nine
    So, great, Ri had long ago— long meaning any number of days—observed that Seamus found him attractive. Not that Seamus hadn’t made a few subtle moves, and not that Pete hadn’t called Ri his boyfriend… Still, it was different to think you were being read like something of an open book.
Ri’s gaze slid away as he said, “We might as well fuck.”
    Seamus didn’t consider himself the most romantic guy in the world, but that proposal was the least seductive he’d ever heard.
If Ri hadn’t looked so wary, Seamus might have been able to build up more indignation, but it appeared that Seamus finding Ri attractive was more baffling and unsettling than ego-stroking.
A thought struck Seamus, given Ri’s very odd life to date. “You’ve had sex before.”
“Of course.” Ri’s cheeks slashed red with color.
“What does ‘of course’ mean?”
Ri glared at him, his eyes hot in a way that confused Seamus. He was pretty sure that was desire, but something else too. Okay, perhaps a more specific question was needed. Talking before sex wasn’t his favorite thing. He preferred to get down to it and figure stuff out as they went. But, Ri was different.
“How many guys have you had sex with, Ri?” He’d never asked the question so baldly, and it had the danger of sounding like some kind of tally sheet or stupid competition. Not that Seamus considered himself hugely experienced. These last couple of years, every time he’d started something with a guy he might like, the relationship had come to screeching halt, putting a significant dint in his sex life.
“Two,” Ri ground out. He’d edged back from Seamus, his discomfort growing. Well, two was something.
“It would be hard to meet people,” Seamus offered while Ri’s gaze jumped all over the place. Okay this wouldn’t do, not at all. If they kept this up, Ri would be out the door and Seamus would be relieved he was gone. And he flat-out did not want that. He patted the couch beside him. “Come here.”
Ri eyed him suspiciously, and Seamus couldn’t help it, he laughed, in part because of all the tension.
“Ri, you’re the one who suggested we fuck!”
“I know that,” he returned with a glower.
“Hey, hey. I’m laughing at us, not you.”
“Right.” But the tension in his shoulders eased.
“After all, I can’t tell if you’re attracted to me.” Not entirely true, given the expression on Ri’s face, but it was time to tease.
That statement left Ri tongue-tied until he said, rather helplessly, “Seamus.”
“We’re not going to really do anything.”
“Huh?”
“Some tension is good, this much, not so good.”
That adorably baffled look returned. The truth was Seamus kind of liked being in charge of what was happening in bed. And while there was too much of a differential right here and now, he could work with it.
“Come here. We can’t have sex when we’re halfway across the room from each other.”
“You said nothing was going to happen.” Ri sounded exasperated, which was better than any previous state of mind. He tromped over and stood above Seamus who put out his hand. When Ri slid his palm over his, Seamus grabbed hold and pulled him down, turning him to the side. Then he tugged Ri towards him, Ri’s back to his chest. He put a hand over Ri’s heart, which was beating fast; he placed his mouth near Ri’s cheek, which was heated.
“Let me show you what not really doing anything can be.”
    Seamus’s low voice sent a tremor through Ri, though he tried to hide it. When Seamus’s hand slid under Ri’s T-shirt to touch skin, he shuddered.
Seamus stilled and Ri closed his eyes. All he could think was that it would be over before it started because he didn’t handle himself well.
“Good or bad?” Seamus asked, palm resting on Ri’s skin.
“Good,” Ri assured him. “Too good.”
“Too long,” Seamus suggested, and Ri wasn’t sure what he meant because he was so focused on what Seamus’s hands were doing,