“What do you think?” Art asked, positively devilish. “I’m giving you a blow job on the Brighton Beach Pier.”
“You are not,” Ryan said, eyes wide. “Half of the beach would be able to see you.” He nodded past Art to the wide-open space behind him and the clear view of the beach.
“So?” Art grinned.
“You should be locked up,” Ryan said, shaking his head, his heart and his cock both so full they might burst.
“Some other time, then,” Art said, peeling himself away from Ryan and stepping back toward the gap between booths. “Some other timesoon.” He pointed to his eyes, then to Ryan’s crotch, then to his mouth.”
There was nothing Ryan could do but laugh, shake his head, and follow Art back out onto the pier. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want a first-class blow job from Art. He’d gladly return the favor, too. He had a feeling it would take him a long time to get bored of messing around with Art. The man oozed sex, and Ryan was like a sponge ready to mop up all the ooze.
That should have made things clear. He cared about Graeme and the two of them were definitely friends, but if he was going to get involved in a sexual relationship, Art was clearly the one. They had explosive chemistry, and they got along incredibly well. It was still early days, but he could see himself involved in a serious relationship with Art.
His mind was made up…for about five minutes.
“There you guys are,” Graeme said, appearing out of a crush of people, his arms empty. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“We’re right here, sexy,” Art teased him, catching Graeme around the waist and pulling him close to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Graeme’s eyes went wide, and he appealed to Ryan for some sort of help or understanding. It was the most adorable, endearing thing Ryan had seen in ages.
“Where are all your trophies?” Ryan asked as the two of them continued along the pier toward the rides.
“I gave them to some kids who thought they were cool,” Graeme said with a shrug. “I overheard their mum saying she didn’t have enough money for them to play the games. I figured the least I could do was give them some toys that I don’t really know what to do with.”
It was like Cupid’s arrow through his heart. Just like that, Ryan was a bundle of confusion and affection all over again.
“Stop it, stop it!” Art laughed. “You’re too good. You’re making me and Ryan look bad.”
“I’m definitely not good,” Graeme said as they stepped into line for one of the roller coasters. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”
“You’re better than the two of us,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, we’re reprobates,” Art added.
“You are not,” Graeme laughed. “You’re just high-spirited.”
“Did you hear that?” Art said, stepping around Graeme, who had once again slipped into the middle position between the two of them like it was completely natural, to throw his arm over Ryan’s shoulder. “We’re high-spirited.”
“Yeah, you’re high something,” Ryan teased him, circling his arm around Art’s waist. “High-maintenance.”
Art made a sound of fake shock which sent Graeme into peals of laughter. It was beautiful and exciting and almost perfect in every way. Except for the nagging feeling that Ryan had the most important choice of his life in front of him and no idea what to choose.
Even the roller coasters they rode, crammed into a tight little car together, screaming and flailing, didn’t feel as disorienting as the heady swirl of lust and affection that Ryan felt for both of his friends. If either one of them had come along by themselves, he would have been over the moon and excited to have finally met someone who really seemed to match him. Two at once, though, was more than his brain could bear.
“Enough of these fun and games,” Art said after they’d ridden all the roller coasters and staggered their way back through the arcade to the street. “I think it’s high time we took this to the next level.”
The way he looked at both Ryan and Graeme had Ryan’s spinning heart turning even faster.
“What’s the next level?” Graeme asked, all innocence and light.
“Supper,” Art said, surprising Ryan with the banality of the suggestion. Of course, then he went on to say, “And then we find ourselves the raunchiest gay club in Brighton, strip most of our kit off, and grind the night away with the men of our choosing.”
Ryan laughed. Men of their choosing indeed. He didn’t know how he was supposed to choose anything when he had two of the most perfect options in existence right there with him.
SEVEN
It was a well-establishedfact in more than one circle that Art was something of a man-whore. He knew it, his friends knew it, and anyone who had been around him for more than a few minutes knew it. Both Ryan and Graeme definitely knew it, since he’d plunged headfirst into flirting with both of them in an earnest attempt to make them so flustered with lust that they would, of course, succumb to his immense charms.
