The Bone Collector, page 7
It wasn’t like he thought his virginity was anything precious. It was really the opposite. Just some weird man-made construct designed to make women feel bad about their desires. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was his brain. It couldn’t get turned on for someone he didn’t care about.
Literally. He had no desire to let a stranger touch or kiss him in any kind of sexual manner. It was like his body repelled the idea, recoiling at the thought. Being that intimate with a stranger just didn’t sit right in Gift’s head, not for any moral reason but because of something wired differently in his brain. He settled for jerking off in the shower. At least, he knew he could do that.
For a while, he’d thought he was asexual. That he just didn’t feel things. But then he’d developed a crush on his friend, Ethan, in tenth grade. His straight friend. And even though he hadn’t stood a chance, his body had refused to get the memo. It made for a lot of awkward sleepovers, but he’d been a little bit relieved to at least know whether sex was going to be a part of his life or not.
He’d found other guys and girls visually appealing. He liked the way girls’ hair smelled and their soft skin. He liked men’s voices and the way some of them looked at him like they wanted him. He liked dating, he liked orgasms, but he just couldn’t mix those two things together until he had feelings for a person. After Ethan, he hadn’t imagined that day would ever come again. But then his mother had forced him to move in with Park.
It wasn’t instantaneous, like a lightning strike. But it was fast. Weeks, maybe a month or two. What did that say about Gift? Probably nothing good. But he loved Park. Even if he treated Gift like an inconvenience, an annoyance, an obligation. Park also held doors for him, held his umbrella, pulled out his chair, made sure he was warm, served him first.
It was a million little things that led to the warmth that pooled in his belly whenever Park was near, that made his heart race and his cock thicken any time Park so much as looked at him. And now, he was there, asking his friends to Cinderella him into getting dicked down by his mother’s best friend.
Gift chewed on his lip, stomach churning, absently noticing the gloss on his lips tasted like cherries. “Stop that,” Payton snapped. “You’ll eat it all before Park has a chance to taste it.”
Payton was in full-scale attack mode. He’d put Gift in the white jeans the girls were raving over. He’d also put him in a sleeveless v-neck black Gucci sweater that looked like it had been chewed up by moths, but the holes and snags tastefully revealed flashes of Gift’s belly, chest, and back.
It was supposed to be worn with a shirt underneath, but Payton had scoffed at the idea.
“Look, we’re at war here,” he said. “That lip gloss is strategic. This whole outfit is. Those jeans put your ass on full display—there’s no way he’ll miss it. The sweater shows off your surprisingly muscular arms and smooth skin, reminding him that you’re very much an adult. The lip gloss will bring attention to your pretty, pouty lips and, hopefully, make him think about having them wrapped around his—”
“I get it,” Gift yelped. “Jeez, I get it.”
Why was he so nervous? Back in Bangkok, he’d dressed like this all the time. Overseas, too. But not when he was in Chiang Mai with his parents. And, in his head, Park was an extension of them. Sort of. But not really, because he didn’t want to fuck either of his parents, and he definitely wanted Park inside him immediately if not sooner.
Gift studied himself in the mirror.
He didn’t suddenly look ten years older or any less like a kewpie doll, but he was…pretty. If he was back home, he could have had his pick of the boys his age. But his body had made it clear there was only one man for him right now and that was Park.
Butterflies took flight in his stomach as he noted the time. “Am I good? I have to go soon.”
Dove and Morgan rose, giving him another thorough once-over.
“Something’s missing, no?” Dove asked, circling him like a vulture.
Gift frowned. “What? What’s missing?”
Morgan snapped her fingers and lunged for Dove, grabbing the clasp of the string of pearls her friend wore without even asking. “This,” she cried triumphantly as it dropped into her hand.
She draped it around Gift’s throat. On him, it was almost a choker. When she was done, she stood back and admired her handiwork. Gift looked at his reflection in the mirror, his fingertips ghosting over the necklace’s smooth surface. Was it too much? Was this all way too much?
“I see you wavering,” Payton said. “This is why you’re still a virgin. You keep chickening out. Are you waiting for rose petals, champagne, and wedding bells? You said you wanted Park. If you want Park, you’re going to shock him out of his coma. Be bold. Be brave. Be honest.”
“Be slutty,” Dove added.
Gift sat heavily on the corner of his bed. “You don’t get it. I don’t know how to…talk to him. We just sit, eating in awkward silence, until I want to blow my brains out from boredom.”
“That’s why you have me.” A grin slid across Payton’s face. “Do you trust me?”
Gift frowned at him, shaking his head. “No. Not even a little bit.”
Payton’s grin made Gift’s stomach slippery. “I have an idea…”
The silence was more oppressive than usual, especially with Payton’s plan burning a hole in Gift’s brain. Could he do it? Would he? If he didn’t, Payton would probably stop helping him, but if he did it and it backfired, he might lose everything.
But what did he really even have at that point? What was the worst case scenario? Park sent him home where people were trying to kill him? Death would be less painful than sitting there in silence watching Park stare into his soup like he could divine his future in it.
It was so quiet that when Park cleared his throat, Gift literally jumped, his wildly beating heart tripping in his chest. Could Park see how nervous he was? Could he see the rapid rise and fall of his chest? Did he know how bad Gift wanted him?
“Did you do your homework, Kla?” he asked, voice softer than usual.
“Yes, hia,” he answered a little too quickly.
Park gave Gift a sharp look that made him squirm. “Even the paper for West’s class?”
Gift nodded. “Yes, hia,” he answered.
Park raised a brow. “What topic did you choose?”
Was he…testing him? “Emerging Threats and Countermeasures in the Era of Internet of Things,” Gift said in near perfect English, then smiled as if nothing had happened.
Was Gift hallucinating or did Park look just a little impressed? He also looked slightly suspicious. “Your English seems to be improving rapidly.”
Park had no idea. But he was about to. Gift was going to be sick, or maybe he was going to faint. But it was now or never. The questions always came before Park saw him out.
Payton said Park needed to be shocked out of his romantic coma. And this plan was the equivalent of taking those little paddles they used to shock people back into a normal heart rhythm and putting them directly over Park’s dick.
Time was running out. “Hia?” Gift said softly, biting the inside of his lip to distract from his leg bouncing triple time under the table.
Park lifted his head to look at him, frowning. “Yes?”
“Can I ask you something personal?” he asked in Thai, knowing full well what Park would say next.
“If you use your English, sure,” Park said, watching him with those warm whiskey eyes.
How was he so hot doing absolutely nothing? Gift was stalling. Were his palms sweating? He could do this. He had to do this. Just rip off the Band-Aid. If he wanted Park, Gift was going to have to live up to his name and be brave.
Gift rested his elbow on the table, resting his cheek in his palm, giving Park his most innocent expression. For a moment, Gift thought he would chastise him about his elbows on the table, but he seemed to get hung up looking at Gift for a long moment before seemingly snapping out of it.
Gift waited until Park took a sip from his water glass before asking, “When did you lose your virginity?” with only the barest hint of an accent.
Park erupted in a coughing fit, water sputtering everywhere as he stared at Gift incredulously, his face tomato red. “What did you—? Wait, where’s your accent? What is going on? Are you… Did you—”
“Did I…” Gift prompted, blinking at him, giving him that placid smile he saved just for him.
By the time Park stopped coughing, it was clear he was irritated. And that he was choosing to ignore Gift’s impertinent question.
He tilted his head, studying Gift through narrow eyes. “How long have you spoken English, Kla?”
Be brave.
“How long ago did my parents enroll me in an international school, Park?” Gift purred, all but daring Park to tell him to call him hia.
Park shifted in his seat, flummoxed. “Oh, it’s Park now, is it?”
Gift licked his lower lip, then dragged his top teeth across it, giving him what he hoped was a sultry look. “That is your name. You call me by my name.”
“I’m your elder,” Park muttered, tone somewhere between confused and grumpy. Was this what Payton thought was going to happen? Was this the desired effect? He had little choice but to stay the course.
“My much older elder,” Gift said. “I should call you Luung, but you didn’t like that, either.”
Park looked a little dizzy, like Gift had just hit him in the head with a brick and he was seeing cartoon stars over his head. “Why didn’t you just say you spoke English?”
Gift hooked an eyebrow upward. “Why did you assume I didn’t? Besides, if I had, I would have missed all those conversations you and my parents had right in front of me. Where’s the fun in that?”
Park blinked at him, then seemed to collect himself. “If you were hoping to shock me, congratulations, you win. But you still need to address me properly.”
“Properly? Okay. How about Adjan? Professor?” Gift taunted softly, running his finger under the strand of pearls at his neck, pulse skyrocketing as Park’s gaze snagged on his throat. He gave a hard swallow before dragging his gaze back to Gift’s face like it took effort.
Was Park…turned on? Nervous? Gift felt giddy, elated. He might not be in love, but he was definitely paying attention.
“Hia,” Park said, giving Gift a steely look that melted his core, turning his insides into lava. Holy shit. He tried not to shift as his dick began to respond to the proceedings.
“Okay, hia,” Gift said, deliberately putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable, calling Park an asshole.
“Kla…” The way Park said his name like a warning was making Gift crazy.
But still, he had to ask, “Why do you call me that when everyone else calls me Gift?”
Park gave him a thorough once-over then leaned forward, mimicking Gift’s position, propping his chin on his hand. “Why did you lie about not speaking English?”
Gift let his fingers trail down the vee of his sweater like it was an accident, watching the way Park’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are you going to answer every question with a question?”
“What else are you hiding from me?” Park asked point-blank.
Gift smiled sweetly. “See, the thing is, I’m not hiding anything from you. You’ve just never bothered to ask.”
That blow landed. Gift could see it in Park’s face. Did he feel…guilty about ignoring him? Whatever feeling Park had would remain a mystery, his face going blank, his fingers playing with the bread knife beside him.
There was a stubborn look in his eyes when he asked Gift, “What do you want me to ask? Should I ask you if you’re a virgin?”
He was trying to make Gift nervous. And he was. Even his teeth were sweating, but he refused to back down. “Yes.”
Park blinked rapidly for a moment, like his brain was rebooting. “Yes, I should ask, or yes, you’re a virgin?”
Gift pooched out his lips, then puffed up his cheeks before letting the air out. “Both.”
Gift’s stomach did a full-on somersault as Park’s pupils blew wide at that information. Yes. Yes. He mentally fist-pumped. Hah.
“Oh,” Park said, voice low and throaty.
Gift wanted to wrap himself up in that voice, wanted to hear it pressed against his ear as Park pushed inside him. Fuck, was he seducing Park or himself?
“Any other questions?” Gift asked haughtily, impressed with his own acting skills.
Park turned the full force of his attention on him, looking him over, before his gaze settled on his lips. “Why did you ask me about my virginity?”
‘Cause I want you to fuck me, moron.
Gift rubbed at his earlobe, trying to sound nonchalant. “Research, maybe?”
Park’s whole body went rigid. Fuck, Payton was right. He really was a genius. “What is it you’re researching, exactly?”
“Who I’m going to let take my virginity.”
“What?” Park managed.
Gift shrugged, as if this was the most natural conversation in the world. “I figured, if I want it to be any good, it should be with someone who has experience. You know? I won’t be much help. I’ve never even kissed someone before.”
Park’s eyes were practically bulging from his head, and he was red to the tips of his ears. “Not even… You’re twenty-one years old. You’ve never kissed anyone? Why?” he asked, almost like he couldn’t stop himself.
Gift tapped his temple. “‘Cause I can’t get turned on with a stranger. It has to be someone I know. Someone I care about.”
Park nodded absently, then sat up straight as an arrow as if the point had finally fallen directly onto his head. “Are you saying you want me to…that you’ve thought about…me and you… Is that what you meant by research? Are you asking me to take your virginity?” he asked, the words coming out slightly strangled.
Gift pulled his lower lip between his teeth, chewing for a moment before letting it go, forcing himself to meet Park’s gaze. “There are only two people in this place I truly know and care about well enough to do it with. You…and Payton.”
“Not Payton,” Park snapped.
Gift jolted at the venom in his tone. What did Park have against Payton? They barely knew each other outside of class. He could ponder that later. Park had given him the opening he needed.
“Not Payton? So, you then? You’ll take my virginity?” Gift countered. “Wow, that was easier than I thought.”
Park was shaking his head before Gift was even done speaking. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh,” Gift said, letting disappointment seep into his tone. “Then why not Payton? He said he’d be gentle. He said he’d make it really good for me. I hear he’s a really good kisser. He’s a bit big, which might hurt.”
“Gift,” Park snapped.
“What? We’re roommates. I’ve seen things.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
“You’re an assassin,” Gift countered.
Park looked stymied. Gift almost felt sorry for him. He’d been hustled. He’d come to the table unarmed, and it seemed like he was having trouble regaining his equilibrium. “He can’t…care about you.”
“I don’t think that matters. I think I only have to care about him, you know, for my body to hop on board. I don’t think I’ll know until we try.”
“No. It shouldn’t be that way. You should have someone who at least has the capacity to care about you. He can’t do that.”
“But you can?”
Checkmate.
“What? No. I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, it should be…someone…”
Gift tried to ignore the sting of his rejection. He’d known it was coming but, somehow, it still hurt. But they’d planned for this.
“I guess I could find someone else,” Gift said, dejected. “I suppose I don’t have to care about them. Maybe I was just being too picky. Maybe the next time everyone goes into town, I’ll tag along?”
“Gift…” Park said softly.
Gift’s head jolted upwards. “You called me Gift.”
Park stared at him with an unreadable expression that made Gift feel like he had bubbles in his stomach. “Didn’t you want me to?”
Gift nodded slowly, not even recognizing his own voice as he said, “Yeah, but I want you to do a lot of things you won’t do.”
Park blinked at him for what felt like a solid minute before he bolted to his feet. “I think we’ve gotten wildly off-track here,” he said. “It’s late, and we’re both tired. Tomorrow, you’ll feel differently. Let me walk you out.”
Gift sighed internally, then rose, following Park to his door, turning abruptly to lean on it. Looking up at Park from barely six inches away was much different than from across a table.
Gift could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, could see his lips were just slightly chapped. His fingers itched to touch them, to touch him, to trace those lips, that jaw, the veins that ran along his muscular forearms. He wanted to hold his hand.
He leaned against the door so Park couldn’t open it. “Park?”
Park’s hand braced against the door frame, and he leaned in, crowding Gift against the door, now close enough for him to feel his breath on his cheek as he said, “I called you Gift. The least you could do is be respectful.”
Gift prayed his sweater was long enough to cover what was probably a very obvious erection. “Sorry.” Gift tried again, breathless. “Hia?”
“Mm?” he murmured, studying Gift’s face from way too close.
“I’m not giving up.”
“Then prepare to be disappointed, ouen.”
Chubby. He’d called him chubby. Not in a negative way, but in a term-of-endearment kind of way. He was talking about Gift’s cheeks. He could work with that.
He raised his hands to his own face, puffing out his cheeks, then poking them with his fingers. “You mean these?”
“Mm.”
“Hia,” Gift whispered, daring to settle his hands on Park’s shoulders. He was so warm. “Nobody says no to this face.”
