He finished his drink, staring at Tank’s charming smile. “Things definitely got gayer between me and him.”
Tank grinned, his eyes glinting with thirst. “Come on, spill a little. How’s my slutty boy doing? Any highlights?”
“Nope. You’ve got to deal with this job fast and return to us,” Drake said before he could have bitten his tongue. Oh well, Tank likely wouldn’t notice what Drake tried to say either way.
Tank groaned. “Oh come on, throw a man a bone. I do miss him. All of you, but he’s… my boy, you know?”
Of course. Tank only wanted to hear about Clover. Thank fuck Drake hadn’t said anything stupid after all. This silliness would finally be out of his system and left in the back of the freezer—still there but unusable when one got hungry. Or like a dead body. One wouldn’t eat it anyway. “He’s lovely. He’s supporting everyone. We had sex outdoors, and I hope neither of us gets a cold as a result.”
Tank chuckled and patted Drake’s cheek. “Aww, always so worried. I’ll be imagining that woodland sex when I’m falling asleep. Sounds pretty relaxing. Would have loved some of that action right now.”
That was Drake’s cue, but the tension was far too much to bear. Maybe once they see each other again in a week, Drake would be over the stupid weirdness he was feeling. “Sucks to be you then. I’ll be going.”
“Okay, okay, thanks for the whiskey.” Tank smirked. “And the lovejuice.”
Drake could have sworn it was an innuendo, but he didn’t trust himself anymore. He zipped his bag with the sense of being watched burning the back of his neck, and headed for the chair where he’d left the jacket. He’d leave this room, go home, and try to forget all his idiotic fantasies. He wasn’t even sure what to tell Clover about this embarrassing evening, because the boy would surely ask him how it went.
“No problem. Stay safe.”
“You too. Just make sure you give Clover a kiss from me.”
Before Drake could process what was going on, Tank pulled him in for a peck on the lips that wasn’t a peck at all, because it wouldn’t end.
The bag dropped to the floor, and Drake clutched at Tank’s top… no, his pecs, as he opened his mouth and licked Tank’s tongue, leaning against the firm body that haunted too many of his unfulfilled dreams.
Tank stared back at him, eyes that bit wider, but instead of backing off and asking questions, he just pushed on, letting his tongue join the dance. He slipped his hand into Drake’s hair, sending all of Drake’s alarms ringing. Both excited and frightened, Drake had no idea where he stood, and the fact that Tank hijacked the situation completely and walked him to the wall until Drake’s back hit it wasn’t helping.
He responded to the kiss, his head spinning with lust, but as Tank’s hands grew bolder, his brain was rapidly removed from the pool of serotonin.
Drake should have taken more time to think about what he wanted, because the way Tank slid his hand to Drake’s leg and pulled it to his hip felt so wrong he had no idea how to communicate it without causing offence. He stiffened further when Tank’s growing erection pressed against him like a knife about to stab him.
Drake pushed Tank back hard enough to make him hit the table. The bottle of whisky rattled, like a symbolic pause, before it settled in its original position while Drake watched Tank in confusion, because his heartbeat muted all other sounds. He was embarrassed to realize he’d hugged himself and quickly stretched his arms, struggling to keep his cool.
What the fuck was he to say?
This had been such a bad idea.
Tank watched him for endless seconds which felt as if Drake was about to bleed to death, but the spell broke when Tank took a swig straight from the bottle and sat back in the chair.
“Yep, give him that kind of kiss.”
Drake dug his heels into the floor at the impulse to run. He couldn’t just leave. If he did, their friendship would remain plagued by this unexplained moment. He needed to be a man about it and face the problem before it grew out of proportion.
“Look, Tank... I hadn’t planned this,” he said, even though he absolutely had.
Tank cocked his head. “What are you even saying?”
Drake counted to three and unglued himself from the wall. “That… things have changed between us,” he said, trying not to focus on the kiss he still felt. That had felt all too good until Tank had gotten too aggressive for his comfort.
This time, Tank was the one looking away. “Have they?”
Drake squirmed under the weight of the atmosphere between them. “Yes. Since Clover joined us, and we… well, there’s no better way to say it. We all have sex together,” he said, frustrated by how naked this conversation made him feel.