The Name of the Game

Okay, so, brain... you want to let me know just what the hell happened in there? Seth frowned to himself as he shut the bathroom door. Habit dictated that he leave it open, letting the steam billow out into the house and sending Clay into a hissy fit -- good old-fashioned teasing -- but just then, he wanted the thing closed.

Fact one: he'd just kissed a guy.

Fact two: the kiss-ee had been his housemate.

Fact two-B: his housemate was gay.

Fact three: he'd kind of li... whoa, there, brain. Retreat and regroup.

Seth juggled the figures around in his head a few times, but always came up with the same conclusion -- he was screwed. Aw, man. The idea had just been a way to get rid of Sophie, the Siren who was Sucking Out his Soul. He'd never intended it to go even this far on the physical level.

Why, then, had he gone and kissed Clay?

As kisses went, it hadn't been anything to write home about, barring the "male" factor. No, really, it wasn't, Seth insisted to himself. A nice kiss, sure. Dry but gentle, almost tender. Not the wet, squishy smack he'd planned on, or the backup dry peck he'd had as a contingency plan. It'd been a regular smooch, the kind he'd have given a... good friend. Who happened to be male. Who happened to be gay.

Seth prided himself on being a decent guy. A clean-nosed cop, even if he did have to get down and play dirty in Undercover. He liked his pranks, and when a relationship was headed for the Dumpster he'd do what it took to get out with his skin intact, but he didn't lead people on.

More, he had two eyes in his head. He'd seen Clay watching him. Always from a distance, very politely, never closing the gap between them on the gay-straight equator. He'd always known that if his bread were buttered on that side, Clay would have made a move right away.

There'd always been that nice, safe distance, though... That was, until he went crashing through it, lips first, and threw everything out of whack.

I seriously don't know what was going on in my head at that moment, Seth admitted to himself. He just prayed Clay would take it in the spirit intended, like the advanced form of a handshake, and not read in any further meaning.