Before Aidan could turn around to see who was at the door, Caleb grabbed him by the hips and pulled him in between his spread thighs. One of Caleb’s hands wrapped around the back of his neck and jerked him down into a kiss, and the other slid under his shirt to touch the bare skin of his belly, and Aidan’s brain seized up and ceased functioning. It was pure animal instinct that he parted his lips for Caleb’s tongue, that his hands rose from where they hung at his sides and found their way to cupping Caleb’s face and threading into his hair, that his body adjusted from an awkward bend at the waist into the more comfortable position of lifting one knee into Caleb’s lap. None of those were decisions. He reacted.
Biting Caleb’s bottom lip might have been a decision. It was premeditated, since Aidan had been longing to do it for years. Aidan had mostly learned to ignore the urge it sparked when Caleb chewed his lip in thought. Mostly. When Caleb’s mouth was pressed up against his, and his sweet, plump bottom lip was right there, the impulse was more powerful than any worries or doubts.
Aidan wanted to move his other leg so he could straddle Caleb’s lap, but before he could, a woman said, “I knew you were kinky, Feldman, but really, leave my exam rooms out of your hookups.”
Aidan nearly choked. That was the voice of one of his torturers. This version of Jennifer Heath didn’t seem to recognize him, though. She thought he was one of the other Caleb’s “hookups,” which raised some questions about other Caleb’s typical behavior.
Caleb broke the kiss and stared over Aidan’s shoulder, twisting his kiss-bitten lips into a smirk. “You worried about the rules, Doctor?”
Aidan was half-sitting on top of him and still found the change in Caleb startling. The shift in his posture had been too subtle—or Aidan had been too distracted to notice while it was happening—but this new pose radiated lazy arrogance. Caleb didn’t sit like that, legs spread and back slouched, his chin tipped up in defiance. He didn’t sound like that, either, although Aidan was hard-pressed to identify what, exactly, was different about Caleb’s voice. It was a hundred tiny changes all at once, where no individual difference was obvious, but the whole was more than the sum of its parts. Despite having been to all of Caleb’s high school and college plays like a dutiful friend, Aidan had never seen this kind of performance.
Too late, it occurred to Aidan that the kiss, no matter how good, had been theater. He should have known from the beginning, of course. Caleb wouldn’t have suddenly shucked off a lifetime of heterosexuality like that. It had been a distraction, a plausible reason for the two of them to be alone together in the room. Aidan had been too caught up in the moment to suss that out, but it soured him on the whole experience. He’d been a prop.
A glance down at Caleb’s lap showed that maybe it wasn’t all faked. Or maybe the bulge in his jeans was just a bodily reaction that couldn’t be controlled or relied upon in any meaningful way. This wasn’t the right time to think about these things, not when Heath was behind him.
They had to jump or talk their way out, and Caleb had been in bad shape when they’d walked in.
Heath’s first scolding for Caleb had been exasperated and almost affectionate, but she didn’t like being challenged. “I should have you written up, Feldman. You weren’t given that ability so you could parade your random assortment of sex partners through my workspace.”
“And you weren’t given experimental subjects so you could fuck them, but that hasn’t stopped you.”
Caleb lifted an eyebrow and kept staring. It was a bold move. They couldn’t be sure Heath’s double had behaved in the same way, or that this facility was anything like the one they knew.
Judging from Caleb’s smile, Heath must have reacted in the way he wanted.
With the hand that wasn’t still possessively clutching Aidan’s hip, Caleb gestured for her to turn and walk away. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. Let’s keep it that way.” Then he waved a tiny, cheerful goodbye and wiggled his fingers to shoo her out of the room.
Heath made an affronted sound. “You’re an asshole, Feldman.”
Caleb made another shooing gesture, his smirk unmoved, and then Aidan heard footsteps and the door closing. It had worked. Holy shit.
Caleb stood up, forcing Aidan to step back, and just like that they were no longer touching. Caleb was himself again, wrecked with exhaustion and uncertainty, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about all that. I had to think fast.”
Aidan marveled at him. “Who are you?”
Caleb grimaced, even though Aidan had meant that as praise. He’d never seen someone transform like that. And after all these years, it amazed him that there was anything left about Caleb that he didn’t know. Today was full of surprises.
“I don’t recall anything half that convincing when you were on stage,” Aidan continued, trying to make up for whatever he’d said wrong. A second later, when Caleb’s mouth twisted further, he realized that this was also an insulting thing to say.
Caleb took a breath and squared his shoulders and said lightly, “Maybe I needed to find the right role.”
“Yeah, but how did you know what to do? Didn’t seem like you spent a lot of time with your double.” Aidan knew the other Caleb was a flirt. But Caleb's only interaction with him had been getting knocked unconscious—or so he claimed.
“A lucky guess,” Caleb said. “These people, our doubles... I thought maybe we might have more in common than just our looks.”
Aidan studied Caleb, wondering if one of the things he had in common with his double was an attraction to men. But he didn’t ask, and now that Caleb wasn’t acting, Aidan could see the fatigue in his movements. He was standing, but he looked ready to sit back down. Shit. Aidan had more important things to worry about than whether Caleb would ever kiss him again.
Aidan said, “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” Caleb said. “Still want to go to Des Moines?”
“Yeah.” Aidan stepped forward, ready for the jump, and Caleb jerked back.
He flushed scarlet. “God,” he swore. “I didn't mean to—I’m not—ugh.”
Maybe that kiss hadn't been so meaningless after all. But Aidan couldn't think about that. It had to be meaningless. His own wants didn't matter. He had goals to achieve, and Caleb biting his lip like that—self-conscious, apologetic, charming—was an obstacle to every last one of them.
For the first time in a long time, thinking of his purpose didn't help. Caleb looking so rattled and unsure was a rare pleasure, and the fact that kissing Aidan had flustered him made it all the more delicious. Aidan couldn't resist bringing it up.
“Feel funny about touching me after that... performance?” he teased.
Caleb rubbed a hand over his face. “God, I don't know. I'm sorry. I've been freaking out about some things and that just... made it worse.”
Teasing Caleb wasn’t any fun if he was going to react with genuine uncertainty.
“I don’t mean to be weird about touching you,” Caleb said. “I’m sorry. Let's forget about this, okay?”
Rationally, Aidan knew he should agree. He could list all the reasons. If the technology existed to pluck that kiss out of his memory, it would be perfectly logical to have it excised. But he didn’t want to.
Which made it awkward that Caleb, apparently, did want to forget.
Caleb stepped forward and extended his arms, allowing Aidan to move closer. It was a stiff embrace. Aidan shouldn’t have enjoyed it. And yet his stupid, treacherous body perked up at Caleb’s touch. He was always so warm and solid. Aidan didn’t want to admit how much surreptitious enjoyment he’d gotten from holding onto Caleb in the Nowhere over the course of his life. Now that they’d kissed, it was harder to pretend that this was all business.
It would be over in a second. Caleb tightened his grip and Aidan took a breath in preparation for the jump.
Nothing happened.
Caleb blinked in surprise. His face was pale and drawn from the exertion of the previous jumps, but he’d acted like he could make one more, and Aidan hadn’t wanted to contradict him on that. Jumping was as mental as it was physical. Most of the time, if you believed you could do it, you could.
Caleb shifted, steadied himself, and tried again to no avail.
“You can do this,” Aidan said, low and serious into Caleb’s ear. He had to stretch upward a little to get there, which brought them closer together, which he was not thinking about. “Whatever you’re freaking out about, put it aside. All that matters right now is getting into the Nowhere. It’ll feel good, I promise. It’s peaceful there. Dark and quiet. There’s nothing. Your problems will all seem small and far away.”
“Ha,” Caleb said.
“You can do this,” Aidan insisted again. “And trust me about the Nowhere. It’s great for running away from everything. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Caleb said. “But this isn’t the kind of thing you can run from, and I don’t think my problem is a lack of wanting to get there.”
“That’s the only problem there is,” Aidan said. “You have to want it more than you want anything else. You have to focus. You’re tired, I know, but you can use that. Think about how relieved you’ll feel when we get the fuck out of here.”
Aidan dropped until his heels were on the floor and offered Caleb a tilted smile.
Caleb tried to return it, then closed his eyes.
Aidan pressed a palm flat over Caleb’s heart, which was beating faster than standing in this empty room warranted. “It’s easy,” he murmured. “It’s just your body doing something your body already knows how to do, like breathing. You know how to do this. Stop thinking about it. Let it happen.”
And then they were gone.