10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Chapter 17

Brad

“You absolute asshole!”

I pop off my couch, looking over in alarm as Jason storms into my apartment like the place is on fire. Before I can open my mouth to ask what’s wrong, he tackles me onto the couch cushions.

“The fuck,” I squeak.

“You dick ,” he says, grabbing a pillow and shoving it on my face. “I can’t believe you told Cas about your big gay revelation before me!”

“Are…are you trying to smother me with a pillow?” I mumble into the fabric.

“We’re supposed to be friends .”

“We are,” I groan.

“ Ugh. You’re not even struggling,” he complains, pressing the pillow against me harder before tossing it away. “It’s no fun if you don’t struggle.”

“Whoa,” I breathe. “Birdie, that was grim.”

He swats my chest before flopping onto the cushion next to me and crossing his arms. “So? Was it okay?”

“Wait, what?” I ask, sitting upright.

“Did he treat you with respect?” he practically huffs. “Was it good ?”

Slowly, it sinks in what he’s asking. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “You precious baby bird, you care .”

Jason scowls at me.

“You love me,” I say in glee. “Admit it. Tell me you love me and care about me and want to make sure my queer deflowering was everything I’d hoped and wished it would be.”

“I regret everything,” he moans, dropping his head back against the couch.

I pat his face. “You lovely little dumpling, Joey and I didn’t have sex.”

He stills, and I pull my hand away before he can bite it. “You didn’t?”

“No. Don’t get me wrong—we will . And very soon, I’m guessing. I mean, I’ve never had a dick down my throat, but it can’t be that much different than a banana, right? Greg’s definitely a two-biter, but I’m gonna work on it. You know I love a challenge.”

Jason’s face is pinched. “Who’s Greg?”

“And dude , I really don’t know if I’m a drill or be drilled kinda guy, but I’m looking forward to finding out. So I need you to tell me everything you know about lube. And douching. Oh, and do you think Joey and I should jump straight into handcuffs or save them for a special occasion? Birdie? Where are you going?”

“Need a drink,” he calls from the kitchen.

“Grab me a refill? Pot should be full.”

Jason comes back into the room with a soda and the coffee carafe. “Can’t believe I’m still enabling your addiction,” he mumbles, filling my mug.

“Stuff of life,” I say happily, sighing around my sip.

“So… You two didn’t have sex,” Jason says, sitting back down and popping the top on his soda.

“Nope. Just kissed.”

“But it was good?”

“Yeah,” I say, my smile spreading. “It was good.”

“And you’re feeling okay about everything?” he asks me seriously. “About liking Joey?”

“It’s the easiest thing,” I admit, still stuck on that. “I don’t really understand why now , you know? I don’t know why it’s him. But…”

I think over how to explain it to my friend.

“I think I liked him first. As a person. And maybe that made it easier for me to consider what a physical relationship between us might look like. And I’m not saying all relationships need to include sex because of course they don’t. But I do like Joey’s body. I like looking at him. I like being close to him. I really like kissing him. And, I mean, shit . Have you seen the dude’s hammies? You haven’t, but trust me, they’re thick . And don’t even get me started on his stomach.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he mutters.

“My point is I know I want him. I do, even though I’m still having a hard time conceptualizing certain things. But I think that’s because I’ve never done it. I’ve never tried, you know? And I’m a hands-on learner, always have been. So maybe it makes sense that none of this clicked before him. Because I’ve never really touched other guys the way I’ve touched Joey. He’s very touchable.”

Jason rubs his face. “This is going to be a thing now, isn’t it? Me hearing about you and his—”

“What do you think his dick looks like?”

“Yep. There it is.” Jason huffs a breath before setting down his soda. “I’m only going to say this once. And believe me—it’ll be as uncomfortable for me as it is for you.”

I snort. “Doubt whatever it is will be uncomfortable for me.”

He levels me with a look . “I’m going to say it because it’s my duty as your honorary brother.”

“Aw, Birdie.”

“Oh my God, let me get this out.” He takes a breath and rushes on. “You never, ever , have to do anything you don’t enjoy. And I know you know that. But if you try this whole… be drilled thing, it shouldn’t hurt unless you want it to. So take things slow, don’t skip the…” He makes a choking noise, sounding as if he’s dying. “The foreplay. Jesus Christ . Use fingers, his or yours, to stretch the muscles. You can even try toys if you want. Or— fucking hell, my life —his tongue. Lube. Condoms. Don’t forget those. And seriously, Bee, tell Joey if anything doesn’t feel right. And what? Why are you smiling at me?”

“Joey would never hurt me,” I tell him. “I’m not even worried about that.”

He eases out a breath. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”

“But tell me more about this tongue thing. I can do that to his ass?”

Jason drops his face into his hands.

Yeah. I think this whole queer-awakening thing is going smashingly.

There’s a pep in my step when I arrive at the gym late Saturday morning. It’s been a whole thirty-six hours since I last saw Joey. He had a busy day yesterday, so we couldn’t meet up. But now that it’s the weekend, he’s free as a bird.

I whistle to myself as I stash my gym bag, getting a few odd looks tossed my way that I pay no mind to. Nothing could get me down on a day like today.

I’m just stepping up on a treadmill to get my warm-up started when Joey walks in. My heartbeat trips, a smile forming on my face in an instant…

And then I about die .

Joey is wearing the shortest short-shorts I’ve ever seen on any human and a cropped tank top that shows off every single inch of his V. His bag is at his side, not impeding the view in the slightest, and, if anything, the way his arm muscles are popping from the weight only adds to the picture. And as he walks my way, giving me a breathtaking grin? I start to worry I may get my first ever gym-boner.

“Joe,” I breathe, clutching the sides of my treadmill tight since my knees no longer seem to be functioning. “What are you…”

“Hey, bub,” he says easily, coming in to give my temple a kiss. “Let me store my bag, and I’ll join you.”

Joey walks off, and my head swivels to follow him.

“Oh, fuck,” I mumble, eyes dropping straight to his ass. “Is that some cheek?”

Joey disappears around the corner, and I take a moment to shake myself loose.

So Joey is hot. I already knew that. Not like it’s a big deal if he wants to show it off a little. Or a lot. He should be proud to display those thighs and that artisanal stomach. Not to mention the little trail that leads down below the band of his itty-bitty shorts that I most definitely want to follow with my—

“ Taaa ,” I cry, pulse kicking as Joey hops up on the treadmill next to my own. “Joe-bro! My kangaroo-boo. How’s it hanging?”

My eyes, incidentally, drop to his crotch, and I quickly avert my gaze.

Joey looks amused as he turns his treadmill on. “Feeling okay?”

“Me? Oh, just swell. Not that I’m swelling . Gosh, no. None of that. Because it’d be inappropriate. At a gym. Which…heh. Swole. It’s kinda the same but not at all, you know?”

And oh my God , someone stop me.

Joey chuckles, as if he actually followed that train of thought, and starts off at a jog. My eyes slip down again. So much thigh .

I get my own machine moving as Joey asks, “Have a good day yesterday?”

“Oh, sure,” I answer, thinking back over the past twenty-four hours. “Lots of nuts.” Joey lifts a quizzical brow, and I hasten to add, “Not my own! I wasn’t, like, jerking off all day.”

Only once. Okay, maybe twice. Three times tops. While thinking about Joey and his abs.

I wheeze. “The nuts were for the squirrels.”

“The squirrels?” he asks.

“For the game I’m designing,” I explain, thankful when my heart rate starts to come down. “Most people probably don’t think about it, but there’s a lot of detail that gets layered into the background of video games. Especially in ones like ours that are more visually realistic. Stuff like squirrels, deer, falling leaves, pinecones on the ground… Anything to make it feel more lifelike.”

“And you’re the one who designs all that,” Joey says, sounding almost proud. Which is…nice.

“Well, I’m one of the people,” I correct. “It’s a team effort.”

He hums. “What’s your favorite part? Of your job, I mean.”

I consider that as my feet slap against the treadmill belt, Joey’s doing the same beside me. “Testing, I think. Not just in-design simulation, but actually creating a character, going into the game, and exploring it. I like looking at how everything has come together. Experiencing what we’ve created. Not to sound all Matrix , but when people play our games, they see exactly what we intend them to, right? They see the world we’ve built. When I play…I see all the components, all the code and carefully constructed webs that hold it all together. And I guess I really like that part. Because it reminds me that real life is the same.”

“How so?” Joey asks, watching me curiously.

“Just…people,” I say with a shrug. “We have so many systems running at the same time under the surface. There’s a lot we’re feeling and thinking and going through, but when you look at a stranger moving throughout their day, you don’t see that. You’re not thinking about their life. You’re thinking about them in relation to you. It’s good, I think, to remember we’re all real under the surface. And the way we treat each other matters.”

Joey holds my gaze for the longest moment, never breaking stride. “Shit, bub,” he finally says, shaking his head slightly. “You’re pretty remarkable, you know that?”

“You really think so?” I ask, feeling warm and… fuck , I don’t even know. Like I could run another ten miles easily if I have Joey there to encourage me.

“Yeah, I really do,” he answers. “Now what do you think—should we run a bit longer or move on?”

“I’m all warmed up,” I tell him, shutting off my machine as he does the same. “What do you want to do today? Legs? Arms? Core work— oh my good freaking God .”

“All right?” he asks.

I cough. “Yah. Good. You’re just, uh, bent right over there, huh?”

“Legs are a little tight.”

“Sure, sure,” I say, swallowing, my eyes taking in the curve of Joey’s ass. His hands are reaching toward the ground, the tips of his fingers touching his toes. His ass is… “Cinnamon buns, you know? They’re pretty good. Round and…tasty.”

Joey shoots me a look before hugging his calves, digging into the stretch, his head practically between his legs. I want to be between his legs.

“So, uh, what are you doing after this?” I ask, wondering if I sound as desperate as I feel and praying the suggestive “me?” I heard was only inside my head.

Joey stands upright and shakes out his limbs. “I’d like to get a little work done at my house this afternoon. Do you… I mean, would you want to come over? I don’t know that it’d be all that interesting, but—”

“Yes,” I say excitedly. “Yeah. Yep. Count me in. Do I get to play with your hardwood?”

There’s a long beat of silence before Joey’s lips twitch. “You’re talking about my floors, aren’t you?”

“What else would I be— Oh .”

“Oh,” Joey repeats, grinning. He steps in close, fingertips pressing lightly to my stomach, his breath passing near my ear as my own hitches. “Either way, bub, the answer will be yes.”

With that, he walks away, leaving me gaping at the wall of windows.

“Joey!” I hiss, spinning after him, nearly stumbling when I catch sight of the strong lines of his lower back glistening with the smallest hint of sweat. I swallow down my spit and catch up to him. “You… You can’t just say stuff like that while I’m wearing gym shorts.”

“No?” he asks mildly, looking rather pleased with himself.

“No way, dude. That’s, like, Boner Bro Code 101. Everyone knows nylon is off limits. What…what are you doing?”

“Leg press.”

“In those ?” I squeak.

Joey gives me a smile I’m pretty sure is part wickedness as he settles onto the machine, his legs up near his chest, those tiny shorts leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. That’s definitely some cheek.

“Are you wearing a jock?” I breathe reverently.

Joey smirks, and yep . It’s official. I’ve left the mortal plane. It’s the only explanation for why I feel suddenly weightless, the only sound in my ears the whoosh of air and clouds around me.

“At least you’re in my Heaven,” I mumble.

“What?” Joey asks around a laugh, starting his reps.

“Just that I’m fairly certain you’re a literal angel, and I’ve never been between a guy’s thighs before, but I’m a little jealous of that empty space between yours.”

The machine clunks loudly as Joey comes to a halt, his whole body going still. “Shit, bub.”

“What?” I ask, mildly alarmed.

“It’s just… I’m not used to hearing you say stuff like that on purpose,” he says. His lips twist as he asks, “Is it the shorts?”

“I mean…they don’t hurt,” I admit, gaze traveling over Joey’s quads and then up to his exposed stomach before reaching his eyes. “But no, Joey. It’s not just the shorts. I’m pretty sure it’s a you thing.”

He blows out a breath, dropping his head back for just a second before he seems to shake himself off. “Okay. How about a cease-fire on the flirting and the eye-fucking until we’re done with our workout. Otherwise, you’re not going to be the only one with a gym shorts problem.”

I grin, eyes pinging back down to Joey’s crotch. “That so?”

He points at the leg press machine next to him. “Get to work, Bradley. Only good boys get cuddles.”

“ Dude ,” I say, not sure whether I should be appalled or awed. “You’re holding cuddles ransom?”

Joey snorts, adjusting his feet and starting his reps again. “Not ransom. Just think of it as…motivation.”

“Well, I’m motivated,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and hitching the bottom of my shorts up, trying to show as much skin as Joey. He grunts. “So. Motivated.”

Joey’s gaze flickers with amusement and something far more heated as I begin my own leg presses. Turns out exercising while horny kind of sucks.

It’s a relief when we finally wrap up our workout. I’m sweaty, tired yet wired, and really looking forward to going back to Joey’s place.

“Want me to grab us lunch on my way over?” I ask, holding the door into the locker room open for Joey to walk through. “I can pick up sammies or something.”

“Sure,” he says. “Thanks, bub.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do in exchange for you teaching me the ways of the…hammerer. The screwer? Christ , maybe my first lesson should be woodworking terminology.”

Joey snorts a laugh. I’m about to add a joke about him teaching me how to work wood in more ways than one, if he knows what I mean, when my words dry right the hell up. Because Joey unceremoniously tugs off his crop top. Clad in only the skimpiest shorts known to man, he grabs his toiletry bag, a towel, and heads toward the showers.

“Meet you after?” he asks, a coy lilt to his words.

“Um,” I manage.

Joey smirks. Without even closing the curtain, he hangs up his towel, sets his bag on the ledge of the shower, and drags his shorts down to his feet.

I choke, Joey’s ass framed by that jock directly in my line of sight. He turns just enough for me to see the outline of his clothed cock, winks , and then closes the curtain.

I think, quite possibly, I’m really going to enjoy my foray into hardwood.