Beta Test (#gaymers) (12 page)

“
Talking
being key. And sure I gossip. About other people.” Ravi laughed at himself, hand moving restlessly as if he knew he had a major double standard going. “But I’ve learned my lesson that it doesn’t pay to be rumored to be sleeping with someone, because when it goes south—and it always goes south—everyone is watching to see which of you quits first, and that’s the sort of toxic gossip I try to avoid.”

“Like the betting pools about whether someone is straight or not?” Tristan twisted the edge of the comforter around and around.

“Hey, man. I’m sincerely sorry about that. And for the record, I knew about the speculation, but I never joined in. That’s not my style.” Ravi tapped him again with his foot. “And yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, actually—the sort of gossip that makes it hard to keep working somewhere because you’re so uncomfortable. And I don’t want that for you. For either of us, really.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that from me. I’m not about to start dropping by your cubicle to angle for quickies in the copy room.”

“Darn.”

“Hey, I’m being serious here. There’s not going to be any office fallout from this...whatever. I can’t afford those sorts of rumors any more than you can—and it’s worse in my case, because of my family.”

“Your family would get mad about you banging a coworker?” Ravi blinked. “Why would—or should—they care?”

“It’s complicated.” Tristan flopped backward next to Ravi. “See, what I told you earlier is exactly what happened—I came out in college and they had a fit. An absolute fit. But what I didn’t say is
why.
And this is something I
really
don’t want getting around the office.”

“You’ve got my word,” Ravi said, finally serious.

“My mother is a judge and fairly politically active.” That was putting a light gloss on things. His mother was on the Federal Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit—that’s why his folks moved to Pasadena when she got elevated from being a district judge. And saying she was “fairly” politically active was like calling the sun “a bit yellow.”

“Your mom’s a judge? That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I was a total late-in-life surprise for them. She was forty-two and already had Derek and a high-powered prosecutor job. She got appointed to her first judgeship when I was two. My father’s an attorney too, in trusts and estates private practice.”

“But what does being a judge have to do with you being gay?”

“A lot.” Tristan glanced over. Ravi was watching him intently. “See, she’s well-known for her conservative views.” Again Tristan kept to a very broad-level explanation of his mother’s ridiculously conservative dissents on things like the marriage equality cases and employment discrimination and religious exemptions and states’ rights.

“Ah. And having a gay kid doesn’t fit with that image?” Ravi’s eyes were kind and understanding.

“Exactly. After Patrick and I broke up, my parents and I came to a kind of truce that my parents would pay for grad school as long as I was...discreet.”

“But if you’re not closeted...I mean they can’t exactly want you to recant, right?”

“Oh I’m sure they wouldn’t turn it down.” Tristan groaned, because really this whole situation was just that messed up. Every time he thought he’d outrun their influence—graduating, getting this job—a fresh wave of guilt over Derek would arrive, usually triggered by his mother’s sadness and disappointment.

But now it was worse, because his mother was retiring and a lot of people were courting her to be a candidate for governor. His parents had made it clear they needed him to keep his head down while his mom explored running. But he really didn’t want to tell Ravi all about the governor stuff. Heck, he didn’t even like
thinking
about his mother launching a statewide campaign. “And no, they understand that enough people know that I came out in college that they can’t exactly hide it. But they don’t want me to flaunt it either. I think they hope that if I stay quiet then there won’t be much gossip to latch on to.”

“That’s fucked up. But I totally get it.” Ravi leaned over and rubbed Tristan’s shoulder. “Trust me, my family would throw a party if I renounced my gayness and said all this was a big mistake.” He snorted. “Never going to happen.”

“Anyway, I understand about wanting to avoid gossip.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, as if he could outrun this strange closeness he felt toward Ravi. The waves of empathy rolling off Ravi both warmed and terrified him. His hands did that stupid shaking thing they always did when he got worked up. He didn’t want to like sharing stuff with Ravi so much. “You don’t have to worry at all about me spreading stuff around the office. Hell, I’m just hoping that if I don’t say anything, the fact that I outed myself at work won’t be too big of an issue.”

“But...uh...where does that leave us right now?” Ravi dropped his hand and asked the hard question Tristan had been trying to avoid.

Tristan rolled to face him, which put him much too close to Ravi’s face. He had to force his eyes to stop zeroing in on Ravi’s lips. “Look. I’m not as naive as I look. I’m not some starry-eyed kid with a crush on you.”
Liar.
Tristan’s hands started shaking, but he soldiered on. “And we’re not at the office right now.”

“So, like, what happens in Seattle stays in Seattle?” Ravi said slowly.

“Exactly. We’re simply two guys who are maybe a little lonely and a lot horny, so we get it out of our system here. But you don’t have to worry about what’s going to happen in Santa Monica. I’m not going to start following you around like a puppy.”
Even if I totally want to.
Tristan hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He was pretty sure his brain was willing to make up whatever logic it needed to justify kissing Ravi again. But he wasn’t kidding about lonely and horny—it had been so damn long since someone had held him like Ravi had earlier, since someone had kissed him like he mattered, since someone had smiled at him like they actually cared.

He’d had a few anonymous hookups since Patrick, but they were all so deeply unsatisfying that he’d deleted the app from his phone and tried to embrace being alone. Ravi made him feel less alone and less invisible, and damn if he didn’t want a second helping before he forced himself back into good-son mode.

* * *

Ravi studied Tristan, trying to see how serious he was. It was kind of hilarious that the guy who pre-planned his restroom breaks was suggesting short-term casual sex. Tristan was high if he thought Ravi could simply forget this happened the second they were back in California, but he did make some really good points. That and Tristan’s face was inches from his, and all he could think about was how amazing kissing him had been.

A repeat of their earlier orgasms sounded perfect, but first they needed to get some things straight. “Absolutely no PDA in front of anyone from
Space Villager
when they arrive. Not even a hint. That’s what happened at my last job. Emilio and I tried to keep things on the down-low at first, but then we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves and word started getting around.”

Ravi’s stomach clenched at the memory. It had been his dream job—straight out of college, his first job with the gaming industry, and for a few years things had been amazing. And he’d been out, just like he had in college, and sure, in college jobs he’d had a few things go south after he got involved with a coworker, but that hadn’t stopped him from pursuing Emilio. Right up until he got pulled from his pet project and put on stupid grunt work because his boss hadn’t wanted “drama” on his team. Now he had a second chance in the industry, a second chance to do the sort of art that fed his soul, and he couldn’t screw it up.

“Do I look like someone dying to get my PDA on?” Tristan laughed with a self-conscious cough, and there was the dorky guy Ravi had been missing.

“No. You’re too busy handing out agendas and coming up with action plans.”

“That and I totally and completely suck at affection—public and otherwise.”

“What do you mean? Surely you’re not still hung up on being a bad kisser? I mean, the fact that we both came like gangbusters should be proof enough.”

Tristan cough-laughed again. “See, this is why it’s good to get it out of our systems here. Trust me that you won’t want to continue back in Santa Monica. I’m bad in bed, and you’ll get sick of it...”

Ravi blinked. “Who told you that? Because I seriously don’t have any complaints from earlier.”

“My ex complained that I didn’t...uh...give good head. And I take too long to come when...you know, it’s my turn.”

“Your ex is the same guy who left you to deal with your parental fallout on your own, right? How about you don’t take his word for it?”

Ravi didn’t like how protective Tristan’s self-confidence issues made him feel. And like with the coffee and food and driving, he had the insane urge to bolster Tristan, see him glow with self-assurance.

“He’s not the only guy I’ve hooked up with, and the others didn’t seem terribly impressed.”

“Random hookups usually suck unless you get super lucky. They’re good for orgasms, but you can’t judge much by them.” Ravi had a feeling he’d had far more of them than Tristan but he didn’t point that out. And he’d also had some go spectacularly right, but sharing that wasn’t going to help either.

“Maybe.” Tristan didn’t sound convinced.

Ravi liked to think of himself as a good friend and a good listener, but he was also better with action than with words. And action was the best way to remove the sad panda expression from Tristan’s face. “Maybe all you need is more practice.”

“Practice?” Tristan’s cheeks colored but he didn’t sound uninterested.

“Yeah. You want lessons?”

“I might.” Tristan licked his lips.

“Then get to practicing.” Ravi let his towel fall open.

Chapter Twelve

“You’re volunteering to be my practice?” Tristan’s brain was all muddled from Ravi’s nudity. Ravi didn’t seem to care that he’d put himself on display. His cock wasn’t fully hard, but it was still pretty damn impressive, and it made Tristan want to see it change and grow. But not if Ravi was throwing him a bone. “Like a pity fuck?”

Ravi snorted. “Hardly. The way I see it, I’m not at all tired yet, and you’ve said you’re in favor of a repeat as long as word doesn’t get around. And unlike whoever you’ve been doing things with, I’m not shy about offering hints.”

“So you’ll tell me what I’m doing wrong?” Tristan tried to wrap his head around the idea of sex lessons from Ravi. His own cock leaped and strained at the thought.
Teach me.
Teach me right now.

“No. I’ll tell you what you’re doing
right
.” Ravi fisted his cock, stroking slowly. Mesmerized, Tristan watched it harden, growing a duskier shade of brownish-pink and revealing thick veins around the shaft. He was uncut, and the slide of his foreskin across his plump cockhead made Tristan’s mouth water.

Tentatively, Tristan reached a hand out, smoothing it down Ravi’s hard stomach, stopping just short of his patch of hair.

“You can touch me anywhere,” Ravi encouraged. “I’ll say if I don’t like something, I promise.”

“Okay.” Tristan licked his lips as Ravi continue stroking. His fingers caressed Ravi’s well-trimmed pubes for a few moments, before dipping lower to cradle his balls. Tristan always liked jacking himself while playing with his balls or nipples and figured it wouldn’t hurt to start with trying what worked for him.

He used his free hand to caress Ravi’s chest, circling closer to his nipples. Ravi made a happy noise, unlike Patrick who had batted Tristan’s hands away when he tried to play with his nipples, saying that he wasn’t a chick. Ravi’s nipples were flat dark circles against his tan skin with a few hairs right around them and...pinprick marks?

“Your nipples are pierced?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotten lazy about having the jewelry in.”

“Hot,” Tristan said absently, experimenting with little flicks and pinches, the kind he gave himself when he jerked off.

“Fuck. Keep that up and I’ll get new rings tomorrow if it turns you on.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Ravi laughed. “No. I’d do it for
me
. Feel free to get your mouth in on this party.”

“Okay.” Tristan knew he was blushing as he leaned forward. He licked across one nipple, then emboldened by Ravi’s hiss, sucked on the other one.

“Yeah. Like that. Teeth are cool too.” Ravi’s groans went straight to Tristan’s dick, making his tip leak against his boxers.

Tristan nipped lightly and Ravi’s whole body arched. “Fuck yes.”

He played with that for a bit, licking and sucking and scraping his teeth over the now-hard nubs. Ravi’s hand tangled in his hair, stroking before subtly pressing down. Tristan could totally take that hint. He licked down the trail of hair that had been driving him so crazy. Ravi’s hand fell away from his cock as Tristan got closer to his patch of hair.

Suddenly nervous, Tristan stopped short of Ravi’s hard cock, which jutted out and curved a bit to the right.

“This is the part I always screw up,” he muttered.

“Teeth are great on my chest, but less so here. Just watch your teeth and don’t go so far down that you gag.” Ravi took his cock in hand and painted Tristan’s lips with the tip. It was so erotic that his tongue darted out, eager to discover the salty flavor.

“Yeah. Fuck, you’ve got a talented tongue. Lick all you want.”

Tristan had heard the “no teeth and don’t gag” advice before, but the praise made everything better. Each dirty whisper made his pulse pound, transformed his nerves into something much more potent. And with Ravi holding his cock, the risk of gagging was way less and he could experiment with licking and sucking until he found a comfortable rhythm. Ravi stroked up as Tristan slid back and then he followed Ravi’s hand back down, going lower and lower as he got more comfortable.

“Try sucking harder and swallow when you’ve got me deep.” Ravi’s suggestion came in deep pants, voice all ragged.

Tristan had tried all this before, but somehow knowing it was exactly what Ravi wanted made a huge difference. Ravi asked; he complied. It was blissfully simple, and the part of his brain that usually worried about every damn detail gradually quieted, letting instinct take over.