“I don’t know your life, okay? But that debt thing needs to be dealt with. That’s not an opinion but a fact.”
Gunner sighed, as if the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders. “I’ve got some business lined up. But there was this boxing teacher that used to be really kind to me when I was a kid and had a shitty home life, and I wanna give back, you know? We’re all in the same boat on this side of the tracks.”
“Oh.” Caspian stared at him, his mind wiped in the face of something he’d never associated with Gunner—compassion for another person. How could this guy taunt him without blinking an eye, and then work for free, just because he felt sorry for a kid. It didn’t make sense. “But I’m from the other side of the tracks, and that made me fair game?”
Gunner shrugged and removed his boxing gloves. “Kinda. You’ve got the fancy car, the pancakes Mommy made for breakfast—” He stalled and bit his lip before shaking his head—“but I’m still sorry about yesterday, okay? It was shit of me to provoke you and then let my buddies do that to you. And for the record, your dick is perfectly fine.”
Caspian stalled when his mind went aflame with the realization that the cock he’d enjoyed sucking earlier was the same one he’d resented all his life. So maybe it was on the smaller end of average, but when he’d taken it in his mouth, it had been smooth, and warm, and tasty. There was nothing wrong with it.
Nothing.
He was so confused he’d only noticed Gunner fighting for his attention when an open hand waved inches from his face.
“Are you there?”
“Yeah. But I’m still angry. You could have just told them to leave me be!”
“Like that would have worked on those idiots. You don’t know them like I do—” Gunner stalled with his gaze fixed on something to their right. “Goddamn it.”
“What the fuck, slut boy? You stalking me?”
Caspian was startled at first, but when Gunner’s nostrils flared as if he were a bull about to charge, Caspian followed his gaze across the floor, all the way to a corner where a buff Asian guy stepped in front of a swinging sandbag he must have been hitting, and laughed, peeling the sweaty front of his T-shirt from his torso.
“Get over yourself, Mike. Like I did,” Gunner said, bristling. He grabbed the hoodie and slid off the ring.
Slut boy?
Slut boy?
What did you call him?” Caspian asked, jumping off the platform and already heading in Mike’s direction as sparks exploded under his skin. He didn’t know what this was about, but the scraps of information he already had were enough fuel for his anger.
“Gun? What’s up? Why are you hanging out with that piece of trash?” Mike asked, intent on not reading the room.
“Let it go, Gunner,” the actual Gunner said, following him, but Caspian was already making his way toward Mike, who seemed to have realized the tables had turned only when Caspian shoved him back so hard the bastard barely kept himself upright.
“Who are you calling trash, huh? Do you have a death wish?”
Mike frowned, but raised his hands. “Wait, wait, I don’t get it. He your cousin or something? He tried to make a move on me at the store today, so I thought maybe he followed me here. Boy’s too thirsty for his own good.”
Frost cut into Caspian as he looked back at Gunner, so tense he felt like his ligaments might snap from the pressure.
But he couldn't start a fight. Not when he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. So he rolled his head over his nape, to loosen up the tension there and was about to dismiss the whole thing and walk off to have a serious fucking chat with the little flea.
But as he opened his mouth to speak, Gunner roared and charged at Mike. “Says the fucking king of one-night stands! It was just a fucking offer!” he yelled and before Caspian could have grabbed him, Gunner climbed the guy like a tree, using his arm as leverage, and punched the side of his head.
Mike hadn’t anticipated this and fell under the unexpected weight on top of him. Their altercation could no longer be ignored, and the other guys stopped their training, gravitating closer like crows to a bagful of crumbs
Fumes of heat and blood-scented smoke filled Caspian’s head, but he only moved when Mike jabbed Gunner’s side with his fist. He grabbed the boy from behind and yanked, peeling him off the other man as if he were plucking a baby out of a burning building.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Gunner stilled, clutching at his side. “He fucking started it. I know he’s gay, so what’s the big deal in me hitting on him? Big fucking whoop! You’re not even all that anyway!” He showed Mike the finger.