“Still not enjoying it?”
Kyrone shrugged. He was studying economics so he could ‘make something of his life’ and ‘do better than his dad had’. “It’s a means to an end,” he said. “As long as I do well, I’ll be able to get a high-paying job. I don’t need to enjoy the degree.”
Jag pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t voice it out loud. He pulled on his T-shirt and jumper before he spoke again. “Do you still want a study session tomorrow afternoon?”
Jag was taking bridging classes that would allow him to go to university if he wanted to. Kyrone had never figured out why Jag hadn’t taken his A Levels at the normal time, nor had he pressed the guy on his reason. It wasn’t as if he’d taken a traditional route into his degree either. He’d joined the Navy and hadn’t planned on taking a degree at all, but things had changed.
“Sure.” He enjoyed studying with Jag, if only because having someone else there who was focused on work inspired him to have a similar work ethic. “The usual place, at two?”
Jag nodded. “That’s good for me. It gets me out of the way of the exercise classes.”
“Aww, I thought you’d like seeing Michael in a tracksuit in teacher mode.”
Jag wrinkled his nose. “Don’t tell Michael, but the tracksuit doesn’t really do it for me.”
Kyrone burst out laughing. “Prefer him with fewer clothes, do you?”
Jag grinned. “Definitely.”
Still laughing, Kyrone lifted his top to check his tattoo out in the mirror. It was still covered, but he’d be able to take that off in a couple of days. Then he’d need to make sure to keep it moisturised until the scab came off; he wouldn’t be able to dance until it had. He couldn’t help but imagine Jared’s long, slender fingers putting the moisturiser on for him. Of course, that led his thoughts straight into the gutter as he remembered how they’d been all over each other in the club the previous night, and how he’d pounded into him. He definitely wanted to do that again, preferably in a bed rather than a toilet stall. Or a sofa. He’d settle for fucking Jared on his sofa too. Assuming the guy wanted to see him again. As tired as Jared had looked, a small niggling voice in Kyrone’s mind told him it was just an excuse to enable Jared to fuck and run. It shouldn’t have bothered him—he’d done it enough times to guys himself—but it did, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, it must be good,” Jag said with a chuckle in his voice. “Either that or you’re checking yourself out in the mirror.”
Kyrone blinked at him.
“I’ve said goodnight to you at least five times.” Jag jerked his thumb in the direction of the door, where the club owner, Michael, was standing. “See you tomorrow?”
“At two,” Kyrone agreed. “Night, Jag.”
“Night.”
Kyrone watched as Jag strode up to Michael. The two men kissed tenderly before heading out of the changing room, with Michael’s arm draped over Jag’s shoulder. They were a good-looking couple and seemed genuinely happy. They’d been engaged for more than a year but didn’t seem in a hurry to tie the knot. When he saw them together, it made him wonder if he’d ever be lucky enough to find someone he fit with as well as Jag and Michael fitted together. In the meantime, he was happy to enjoy fucking guys who caught his eye, and Jared had definitely done that. He latched on to Jared’s ‘maybe’. ‘Maybe’ he’d turn up at The Vibe the following Wednesday, and they could hook up again. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t.
6Jared
The appointment with the neurologist had gone the way Jared had expected it to. It was literally a recap of his notes, the recovery journey he’d taken so far, what would happen next—which included scheduling some tests—and talking about his prognosis into the future. As ever, the prognosis was hazy, with no promises or assertions that he would get any better than he already had. He couldn’t let himself dwell on it, or his emotions would spiral out of control. He didn’t want to visit that dark place—let alone live there permanently—so he always focused on the positives. He was in a much better place than he had been a few months earlier. He was independent, had somewhere to live and a job he was managing to hold down, albeit only at an apprenticeship level. If this was the best he could hope for, then he was more than prepared to embrace his new normal.
His main wish was that he could put on weight and muscle mass faster than he was doing, but that was a discussion he needed to have in a week or so with the dietician. His mother had ‘helpfully’ shown him pre-accident photos, and he’d seen just how much weight he’d lost while he’d been in a coma and how unhealthy he was now. He’d been given fluids and nutrients via an NG tube, and his limbs had been exercised daily, but it wasn’t the same as eating real, solid food or being up and about and moving. Although he looked better than he had done a few months earlier, it wasn’t surprising that Faye had assumed he had some kind of eating disorder.
He also wished he could get his headaches under control or that they would just go away. At best, they were an annoying irritation. At worst, they were like a migraine on steroids and could knock him out for days. Right now, pain management was the name of the game, and he could only hope that the pain clinic in Leeds would have some ideas he could try that the specialists in Surrey hadn’t thought of.
Ultimately, he knew he was lucky. Lucky to be alive and fortunate to have come out of the whole experience without more debilitating disabilities. For that, he was grateful every single day.
In the spirit of feeling lucky, he’d decided to go to The Vibe. It was Wednesday, and Kyrone had as good as promised he’d be there again. Even if he wasn’t, Jared was confident he could have a good time. He realised he could have gone any night that week. He could have goneeverynight that week and found a guy to hook up with. Instead, he’d waited until Wednesday to come, and he couldn’t dismiss the notion that it was because he’d known Kyrone wouldn’t be there any other night.
Something about the guy got under his skin. The good sex probably. Or the fact that Kyrone had brought him to a climax after he’d had his own. Most guys he’d met didn’t bother to do that. He’d also enjoyed the slightly rough treatment. Being shoved up against walls and manhandled had been electrifying. Some of the guys who had played those games with him had been overbearing with it, almost to the extent of frightening him. It was hard to enjoy sex when he was on edge. That hadn’t happened with Kyrone. He’d felt safe the whole time and incredibly turned on. If he was going out, looking for sex, which he was, it made sense to seek out a man who made him feel sexyandsafe.
The Vibe was just as packed as it had been the previous week. When Jared didn’t immediately see Kyrone, he headed to the bar to buy himself some water. Disappointment filled him when he still didn’t see the sexy dancer, so he made his way onto the dance floor. Within seconds, he was dancing opposite a big guy with flame-red hair. They gradually moved closer, although Jared wasn’t really feeling any kind of desire for him. By the end of the fifth song, he’d made up his mind to smile and move on. Or maybe go home. His head hurt, which was putting a damper on his mood and sapping his energy. He could try again another night, when his head wasn’t pounding.
The redhead scowled as a strong pair of arms looped around Jared’s neck. A second later, he felt lips brush his ear.
“You started without me.”
Jared shivered with delight at the sound of Kyrone’s voice. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to drive his headache away. He smiled apologetically to the guy he’d been dancing with and then turned in Kyrone’s arms, placing his hands on his hips as they fell into a swaying rhythm. Damn, he was just as sexy as Jared remembered.
“I was about to leave,” he admitted.
Kyrone raised his eyebrows. “So early?”
