4. Luka

4

LUKA

“Drink!” Dean slammed a pint glass in front of me, spilling beer all over the table.

I shot him a flat look. Drunk Dean was out in full force tonight, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his antics right now.

“What?” He grinned. “You’re being boring. I’m just tryna be a good friend and get you to loosen the fuck up.”

“And a beer puddle is going to do that?” I eyed the table and the beer that was inching closer to the edge.

He snickered. “It will if you use a straw.”

I grabbed a pile of napkins off the table and pressed them into the mess, but the flimsy napkins were no match for the spill. “Move your ass.” I elbowed Dean in the side. “I need to get something to clean this up with.”

“Okay, Mom.” He rolled his eyes like I’d just told him to do his homework and stop using his phone at the dinner table.

I waited as Elle slid out of the booth, then gave Dean a little shove to remind him to move too. He managed to get out of the booth but swayed on his feet a few times and had to grab the table so he didn’t fall over.

“You should be cleaning it since it’s your mess,” I said pointedly.

“Your fault.” He shook his head. “You should suck it up off the table.”

Erick and Scott, who were sitting across from us on the bench with their girlfriends, guffawed at Dean’s joke.

“Bet Luka’s a pro at sucking,” Erick quipped when I was standing next to the table. “All those years in the locker room taught you a few tricks, huh?”

I flipped him off and headed toward the bar to get a cloth or something from the bartender.

I’d met Erick and Scott at the same time as Dean when we’d all worked on the same crew together. I liked them, and I considered them good friends, but the mildly homophobic digs about my hockey days were getting old.

Those barbs were one of the main reasons I kept my sexuality a secret from my friends. I had no idea how they’d react if they found out I was bi, and I wasn’t itching to find out.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as I came up to the bar, a smile on his handsome face.

“A cloth or something, if you have one.”

He cocked his head curiously.

“My friend spilled his drink,” I explained.

“I can get someone to clean that up for you,” he said. “Which table?”

“I don’t mind getting it,” I said. “It’s about time for my friend to leave, anyway. No point bothering anyone for this.”

He nodded, a knowing look crossing his features. “He’s had a few?”

I leaned my elbows against the bar. “Pretty sure we’re at a few pitchers now.”

“Roger that.” He ducked behind the bar and reappeared a second later with a roll of paper towels in one hand and bucket in the other. “Good luck.”

I took them from him. “Thanks.”

Everyone was laughing at something when I came back to the table with the cleaning supplies in hand.

“Did any get on the floor or the seat?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the drunken laughs of my friends.

No one answered, and I made a point of stepping on Dean’s foot as I leaned over the table to mop up the mess.

“Ow.” He yanked his foot free from under mine and slammed his knee into the underside of the table hard enough the whole thing shook. “Ow!”

“Careful,” I deadpanned. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

I finished cleaning the mess while everyone started talking at once, getting progressively louder until they were shouting.

I gritted my teeth and tossed the used towels into the bucket. I was so done with tonight.

I’d spent the past two hours sipping my beer and watching my friends get drunk. I’d only had two drinks, and everyone else was approaching or already into the double digits.

It was Saturday night, so I didn’t have to work in the morning, but I was exhausted. I’d only gotten home from work at six, right as Dean started blowing up my phone and pestering me to come out until I’d relented around eight and agreed to come out tonight.

In those two hours, I’d had time to shower and eat something, and that was pretty much it. I’d had zero time to relax after another six-day work week, and being at the bar with my drunk friends wasn’t the restorative outing I hoped it would be.

All I wanted tonight was to hang out with my friends, have a few drinks, and decompress after a long week. Instead I spent the night wishing I was anywhere but here.

Without saying a word, I brought the rest of the paper towels and the bucket back to the bar.

“Thanks.” I handed them to the bartender.

“You look like you’re having a rough night,” he said, giving me a quick once-over.

I didn’t miss the little gleam in his eye or how his gaze lingered on my chest.

“You could say that.” I gave him a wry smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Long day, long week, long month.” I sighed.

“I know the feeling,” he commiserated. “Is it just me, or does it feel like time is a flat circle?”

“A flat circle?” I asked.

“Yeah, like a loop that we just keep going around. Just a repeat of the same thing over and over again.”

“You’re not wrong,” I mused. “Although my life feels more like a hamster wheel at this point. Just running in place and thinking I’m going somewhere and not actually moving.”

He chuckled. “I like that. I’ve definitely been on the hamster wheel for a while now.”

“Hopefully we can both get off the wheel and back into the circle. Maybe mix things up a bit.”

He laughed. “Here’s hoping.” He gave me a smile that was full of heat and innuendo. “Do you want a drink? Maybe get away from all that.” He ticked his chin at our table. “On the house.”

“Thanks, but I have to head out,” I said.

“Are you sure?” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “I’m off in less than an hour.”

I paused.

Normally I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of picking up when I was out with my friends, but I was in a mood and feeling reckless.

It had been over a week since I talked to Nice on Kinksters, and I hadn’t been able to think of anything, or anyone, else since.

Well, that wasn’t true. Most of my thoughts were consumed by Nice and his magic voice, but the ones that weren’t were preoccupied with Zander.

I’d been such a mess at work that I was pretty sure he thought I was a complete moron. I dropped things I should have had a handle on, I tripped over things I should have seen, and I was late for three out of six shifts.

Zander had been forced to cover for me more than once because I kept fucking up, and he’d done it without complaint. I tried to come up with some plausible reasons I was such a mess, but he just assured me that it was fine and he understood that shit happens and we all get behind the ball from time to time.

Thankfully Dev and Nate weren’t angry at me for my tardiness. Nate called me into the back office to ask if I was okay after my third late day in a row, but he only said he was concerned about me and wanted to know if there was anything he could help with or if I needed some time off. He cared about me as a person, even though I’d only been working at the shop for a little over a month. I wasn’t used to that.

The higher-ups at my old shop hadn’t given a flying fuck about us or our problems. It didn’t matter what we had going on in our personal lives. They only cared that we showed up on time, worked our asses off, and did it all with a smile.

Too bad I couldn’t tell Nate that the reason I was such a mess was because I couldn’t stop thinking about jerking off with a stranger on the internet.

The sexting session with Nice had been over a week ago, but my messed-up brain remembered every detail like I was reliving it in a movie. The sexy burr of his voice, how hot he’d sounded when he came, the effortless way he guided me through my first JOI, and how he seemed to instinctively know how far to push without going too far all played on a loop in my head.

Then there was how he made sure I was comfortable both before and during and how he talked to me after and helped me come down from the high of my orgasm. He’d taken care of me, even if it was just over the phone.

I’d never had that during sex, but that was mostly due to the partners I’d had. Most of my female hookups and the few relationships I’d tried to have had been with women who preferred that I take charge.

They wanted me to make the moves, to be the aggressor, and to make them feel good. That was fine, and it was the natural role I fell into with women, but a part of me had always craved something different.

I wanted to be the one who was taken care of. To be the focus of the encounter, not the one leading it. Maybe it made me selfish or lazy, but the thought of laying back and letting someone else take charge and be responsible for my pleasure got me hot.

The men that I’d been with fell into two categories: casual hookups and faceless randoms. A few had wanted to top me, but most had been eager bottoms looking for a dick.

None of those partners were the type I could tell my desires to, so I’d buried them and pretended they didn’t exist.

I couldn’t do that anymore, not now that I knew just how amazing it was to let go and give someone else control.

But picking up a random bartender wouldn’t help me experience that again. It would be another faceless fuck that would feel good in the moment but leave me empty and alone, just like every other hookup I’d had in the past year or so.

“I’m sure,” I said, giving him what I hoped was an apologetic smile. “But thanks.”

“Can’t blame a guy for shooting his shot.” He smiled ruefully. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

With a sigh, I headed back to my friends.

“We were about to send out the search party,” Scott said as I approached our table.

“What did the bartender want?” Elle asked, looking between me and the bar.

“Luka’s dick.” Erick snickered.

“Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.” Dean laughed. “Is there something straighter than an arrow? Because that’s what Luka is.”

I pulled in a slow breath and counted to three. It did nothing to calm me down.

“I’ve got to head out,” I said, ignoring their comments.

“What? But you just got here,” Dean exclaimed.

I didn’t point out that I’d been here for over two hours. Drunk Dean wasn’t good with time. “Have a good night. I’ll see you guys later.”

I hurried away from the table and right out of Glenn’s.

I stared at my phone like it held the answers to the secret of life.

I’d gotten home thirty minutes ago, and I’d spent about twenty of those minutes sitting on my couch and trying to decide if I should go on Kinksters again.

I was exhausted, frustrated, and horny as hell, but I was also nervous.

I obviously wasn’t an expert or anything, but what were the odds that the next guy I talked to would be anything like Nice?

Had our session been typical for him? Was that easy flow of conversation and the seamless way he’d read my cues and completely blown my mind normal? My gut was saying no, but that could be wishful thinking.

What I did know was that I was the only one obsessing over any of this. Nice had probably forgotten all about me when he was washing the cum off his chest or stomach or wherever it landed.

I’d bet money that he hadn’t thought twice about me or our conversation. I was just one of god knew how many people he’d spoken to on there. Just because our session had completely rocked my world and made me realize just how lacking my sex life was didn’t mean it had been anything special to him.

This was probably just some weird reaction to him being the first person I’d done any sort of kink with. I’d imprinted on him, that was it.

I should just go online, find another guy to do a JOI with, and hopefully a new experience would erase the old one.

Resolutely, I grabbed my phone off my coffee table and unlocked it. The icon for the Kinksters app was deceptively boring, just a plain gray box with a white K in it, so I hadn’t bothered putting it in the hidden folder on my phone.

I tapped the icon and went to my profile to set my search parameters but paused, my attention on the message icon.

On a whim, I opened my inbox. I had a few message requests but zeroed in on the thread with Nice.

The little green dot under his profile pic was lit up.

He was online.

My stomach did a weird flip-flop, and a burst of what felt like adrenaline detonated in my chest. It wasn’t nerves exactly, more like that feeling when you get startled.

I stared at that tiny green dot. He’d said he didn’t come on here often, but we’d chatted just over a week ago. Had he lied to me? Or was he just in the mood to chat with someone again?

My finger hovered over our message thread, indecision warring inside me. Should I message him? He hadn’t said he wanted to chat again, but that could be because I’d put no repeats in my bio.

I wasn’t against talking to the same person more than once, but I’d figured it would be safer, and easier to contain my secret, if I kept things as impersonal as possible on here.

“Fuck it,” I muttered to the empty room and tapped the message button.

Sinbin : hey

An ugly thought invaded my brain as I hit send. What if he was talking to someone right now? What if he was online because he was in the middle of a JOI with another guy? Or girl. He’d left his sexuality blank, so I had no idea how he identified.

MrNiceGuy : hey yourself

My mind quieted as his message came through.

MrNiceGuy : I didn’t think I’d hear from you

Sinbin : is it okay that I messaged?

MrNiceGuy : more than okay

MrNiceGuy : I’m just surprised because of your bio

Sinbin : I’m surprised to see you on here

MrNiceGuy : why’s that?

Sinbin : because you said you’re not here often but we talked a week ago

Why had I written that? It sounded bitchy and clingy. It wasn’t my business who he talked to or how often he logged in, and calling him on it like this was messed up.

MrNiceGuy : let’s just say I was revisiting some old memories

Sinbin : old memories?

MrNiceGuy : I was looking at your gallery when you messaged

My jaw actually dropped. He’d been looking at my pics?

Sinbin : really?

MrNiceGuy : really

Sinbin : now I feel like an asshole

MrNiceGuy : why?

Sinbin : because I was an asshole?

MrNiceGuy : how were you an asshole?

Sinbin : I pretty much called you a liar because I was jealous

Jesus Christ. Why had I written that? It was like this app was a truth serum, and I couldn’t control my stupid mouth—or thumbs—when I was on here.

Or maybe it wasn’t the app but Nice I couldn’t control myself around. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that possibility.

MrNiceGuy : you didn’t call me a liar. you just pointed out the contradiction between what I said and how I’m acting

Sinbin : maybe but I still feel like an asshole

MrNiceGuy : why were you jealous?

I paused. How could I tell him the truth without making him run for the hills and block me? Kinksters was a hookup app. He didn’t owe me anything, especially not explanations for why he was online.

I must have taken too long because his next message appeared before I could answer.

MrNiceGuy : did you think I was talking with someone else?

Sinbin : maybe

MrNiceGuy : and that made you jealous?

Sinbin : maybe

MrNiceGuy : maybe?

Sinbin : yes

I could lie, but what would be the point? It was pretty obvious I was being a clingy bastard, but he wasn’t getting mad or calling me out.

That was a good sign, right?

MrNiceGuy : would it help you to know that I like that?

Sinbin : me being jealous?

MrNiceGuy : yes. It means what we did stuck with you

Sinbin : of course it stuck with me. I came harder during our call than I have in forever

Jesus fucking Christ. It would be awesome if I could stop being so honest.

I might have only had one conversation with Nice, but I liked him, and not just his phone sex voice. He seemed like a good guy, and I wanted to keep talking with him. That wouldn’t happen if I scared him off.

MrNiceGuy : you did?

Sinbin : yeah. was it good for you?

Sinbin : I mean I know you came but was it good?

MrNiceGuy : amazing

MrNiceGuy : it’s not usually like that for me

Sinbin : no?

MrNiceGuy : no

MrNiceGuy : I’ve never had a call like that

Sinbin : what’s it usually like?

MrNiceGuy : sometimes it’s awkward, sometimes it just doesn’t work no matter how hard I try. Most times it’s fine and enjoyable, but nothing like what we shared

Sinbin : I’m sorry for being like this

MrNiceGuy : no need to be sorry. You’re allowed to feel how you do and ask what you want

Sinbin : you’re incredibly chill. I wish my brain could be so zen

MrNiceGuy : I try to see why people do the things they do and react to that instead of their actions. And I know how eye-opening it can be to experience something new and how that can affect you

Sinbin : I’m glad one of us gets it because this isn’t like me

MrNiceGuy : no?

Sinbin : not at all. I can’t remember the last time I got so twisted up after hooking up with someone. And we didn’t even hook up. Not really

MrNiceGuy : kink requires a certain level of trust, especially with what we did. You gave me, a stranger, control. And I’m guessing that was the first time you’ve done that with someone?

Sinbin : yeah. it was

MrNiceGuy : experiencing something for the first time is a big deal, and I’m sure it raised more questions than it answered

Sinbin : so many more questions

Sinbin : I’m really glad I matched with you

God fucking dammit to hell. There I went with the truth bombs. We’d gotten off together once and exchanged a few dozen messages. I was nothing to him except a faceless stranger. I shouldn’t be laying any of this on him, but he was so easy to talk to I couldn’t seem to stop.

MrNiceGuy : me too

Sinbin : did you have a good night?

I needed to change the subject and talk about something other than my issues. Hopefully I didn’t give him whiplash with my abrupt tone shift.

MrNiceGuy : not really. Did you?

Sinbin : not at all. What sucked about your night?

MrNiceGuy : family drama

Sinbin : family drama?

MrNiceGuy : my mother. She’s the cause of a lot of my stress

Sinbin : that sucks.

MrNiceGuy : what about you? What sucked about your night?

Sinbin : my friends

MrNiceGuy : your friends?

Sinbin : yeah. I went out with them tonight hoping to relax and have some fun but they were all wasted and being annoying

Sinbin : you don’t want to hear about my personal problems

MrNiceGuy : I don’t?

Sinbin : no? I mean, we’re on a kink app…

MrNiceGuy : that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me

MrNiceGuy : I know I’m a stranger, but sometimes talking to someone completely removed from your life can help

Sinbin : I don’t have a lot of people I can talk to about personal stuff

MrNiceGuy : me either

Sinbin : but I don’t want to think about them anymore. I had a long day and a shitty night and I just want to stop stressing about everything

MrNiceGuy : you want to get out of your head for a while?

Sinbin : yeah

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