Chapter 2
TWO
PRESTON
“And I’m thinking about getting breast implants,” I hear my roommate and best friend say. “And I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”
His words bounce off of me at first and then I register them in my head. “Wait, what?” I turn to him, and he laughs, knocking on my forehead with his closed fist.
“Ow,” I retort, rubbing the spot. “What the fuck?”
“Dude, who are you staring at? You’ve been spaced out for the last five minutes.”
I flush and bite my lip. Chris follows my gaze when I can’t keep it from straying back to the booth across the coffee shop from where we’re sitting. I should be working on the homework for the Human Physiology class we’re in, but I haven’t been able to stop staring at the dark-haired guy, dressed in tight black pants and a vest, and covered in jewelry, from the moment he walked in. Which is a little strange since I’ve never noticed guys before. I mean, not like that anyway.
He’s sitting across from a gorgeous girl with light brown skin and dark curly hair, and a shorter guy with wavy hair and glasses that seems upset. My cock twitches as I watch him, and fuck, that’s new.
“She’s hot,” Chris says. “You should go say hi instead of ogling her from across the room.”
I flush even more and glance at him. Then slide my baseball cap off my head and run my fingers through my blond hair. I’m not terrified by the fact that I’m noticing another man. Just curious, I guess, and intrigued, maybe. And I know Chris won’t care. He’s gay himself. “What would you say if I told you it’s not the gorgeous girl I’m staring at?”
His eyes widen. “Oh, well, I would say you should go talk to him, then. He’s hot too.” He seems a little taken aback but I’m sure it’s just because he never expected his supposedly straight best friend to admit he was sexually attracted to another man.
“He is, isn’t he? I don’t think I’ve ever thought that about a guy before.” I’m grinning now as I place my ball cap back on my head.
“You gonna talk to him?”
“Nah, they seem busy. Besides, I have no idea what I would say.” God, I don’t get flustered, or nervous around other guys, but just the thought of approaching him is making my heart race and sweat break out on my neck and forehead.
Chris clears his throat and I look back at him. He seems…unsettled, maybe. “You okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” he replies. “I’m gonna head home and do my studying there. Too much going on here.” He smiles at me and packs up his things.
“See ya,” I say, and he waves as he walks away. My gaze returns to the striking guy in the other booth as I take a sip of my cappuccino and study him a bit more. His skin is incredibly fair and he’s super thin, but not in a way that makes him seem unhealthy. He looks like he’s in pretty good shape actually, with a runner’s physique and toned arms. I bite back a groan when he stands and my dick twitches again as I watch him walk away. God, that’s a tight ass.
Shit. Am I into dudes? I don’t know but I’m certainly willing to find out. This is definitely not the turn I expected my life to take during my junior year of college, but I’m rolling with it.
Part of me regrets not talking to him, because I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again on such a large campus. But I honestly don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Besides, he might not even be into guys, or if he is he might have a boyfriend. Damn, that would suck. The fact that that disappoints me so much tells me I’m definitely interested. But I think I have some more shit to figure out before I put myself out there.
Maybe once I understand my attraction to him a bit more I’ll run into him again. Here’s hoping, because I don’t think I’m gonna be getting him out of my head any time soon.
I’ve just gotten back to the apartment I share with Chris when my phone rings.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, holding the phone to my ear as I slide my shoes off. I drop my backpack on the floor as well and pad into the living room. I don’t see Chris so he must be in his bedroom.
“Hi sweetie,” she croons. She always sounds like she hasn’t talked to me in months even though she calls several times a week. Honestly it’s a bit much, and I feel smothered sometimes, but I can’t bring myself to ask her to stop because I know why she does it. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Classes are going well?”
“Yep.”
“Any new developments?”
I chuckle. Mom will get a kick out of my new quandary. “Well, I’m trying to decide if I like guys or not.”
“Oh, really?” She seems intrigued and I smile. My parents have never been the type to care who we date or fuck, as long as we’re careful. They taught us from an early age that love is love and we’ve always felt safe with them, knowing whoever we bring home they’ll welcome them just like they would their own children.
“Yeah, I saw this guy at the coffee shop today and, I don’t know, he really grabbed my attention, so now I’m kinda curious.”
“Ooh, keep me updated. Your brother will love to hear this.”
I chuckle. “How is Paris? That little minx never calls me.”
She laughs. “He’s a whirlwind. You know your brother. He’s always off doing something. But he loves you, you know that.”
Paris is my complete opposite in every way. Extroverted, lively, energetic. Whereas I was the one playing the sports in high school, he was the one on the cheer team. I prefer spending my evenings at home relaxing, and Paris wants to do anything but that. He is always going to a party, hanging with friends, shopping, or trying out a new hobby. It helped some when he got a job so he could afford to do all the things he wanted to do. It kept him busy, and Mom and Dad didn’t have to go broke.
“I do. I miss him though. Miss you all.”
“We miss you, too, baby. You coming home before Thanksgiving?”
I sigh. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot going on here.”
“I understand. We’re really proud of you. You know that, right?”
I smile. “Yeah, I do. Listen, Mom, I gotta go and get some dinner. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie. We love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.” I hang up and let out a sigh. Chris comes out of his room just then and heads into the kitchen.
“Your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything okay?”
I nod.
“I was gonna make pasta. You want some?”
My stomach growls. “Yes.”
He grins at me and I sit down at the bar while he cooks. I’ve known Chris since freshman year and he’s met my family. I grew up about two hours north of here and I go home as much as I can, and bring him with me. My parents adore him, and I can’t blame them. He’s an awesome guy. We got along so well freshman year that we decided to be roommates sophomore year, and then got this apartment together at the beginning of this year.
“Thanks,” I say when he puts a bowl of tortellini in front of me, covered in sauce and sprinkled with parmesan cheese. God, it looks delicious.
“No problem.”
“You wanna watch something?” I ask as I stuff my face.
“Nah, I’m gonna eat in my room and try to get more studying done.”
“Okay.” He heads to his room and I plop myself down on the sofa and turn on The Big Bang Theory as I scarf down my meal and try to figure out what it is about Coffee Shop Guy that has me all discombobulated.
I came up with a four step plan for figuring out my sexuality, or at least whether or not I’m into guys.
Step one was porn. Gay porn to be specific. I wanted to know if it’s just the guy at the coffee shop that does something for me, or if other guys do too, and if watching guys fucking turns me on.
Spoiler alert: it does.
I’ve seen guys naked before a million times. But seeing another guy hard, touching himself? Fuck, it’s something else entirely. I’ve gotten off to gay porn almost every night over the past week, and my orgasms have been more intense than they ever were watching straight porn.
Watching one guy get plowed by another guy or one guy suck another’s cock is seriously one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. Especially when you throw in the dirty talk. That really gets me going.
I graduated pretty quickly from cheesy porn videos to OnlyFans. And watching the guys on there jerking off, or fucking themselves with dildos or their own fingers, or plowing into the guy underneath them, making him beg and whimper and moan, shit, it made me so hard.
Okay, apparently I like gay sex and watching guys get off. Does that mean I’m gay, though, or just that those things turn me on? Would I be as riled up to be with a guy? Letting him touch me, kiss me, fuck me?
I groan and find myself reaching for my cock at the thought of one guy in particular sticking his dick in my ass. Holy fuck, how is having someone buried inside me something I’m just now craving? The idea of being fucked instead of doing the fucking sounds incredible.
I’ve found myself noticing guys more in general around campus, but none of them get my heart rate up or make my dick take notice like Coffee Shop Guy did. I haven’t seen him again, even though I’ve been back to the coffee shop every day since.
If I’m going to approach him though, at some point, I want to be confident in where I’m at with all of this, and not be some shy, blushing, gay virgin who has no idea what they’re doing.
So next on my list is a public outing to the local LGBTQ club, and if I feel anything after that, toys are next. I want to have some idea of what it feels like to have my ass impaled before I actually do the deed with someone else.
I’ve been to Rave before, a couple times, with Chris, because he’s my best friend and I want to support him, but I’ve never been with myself in mind, so it will be a different experience. I don’t plan on hooking up, but I want to get a feel for it, see if any guy piques my interest.
“Hey, you wanna join me at Rave ?” I ask, peeking my head into Chris’s room where he’s sitting at his desk, laptop open. He’s been quiet the past week or so and I am hoping he’s okay. He tells me he’s just busy with homework and stressed about his different assignments and projects whenever I ask about him. I’m not sure I believe him but I don’t know what else to do. I think getting out would be good for him, and hopefully he can help me navigate the queer scene if I find myself needing any assistance. I might not know if I’m being flirted with, or what to do or say if a guy does grab my attention.
He stares at me.
“You okay?” I ask.
“You’re going to Rave ?” he finally says.
“Yeah, it’s next on my list.” I grin at him.
“List?”
“Yeah, my four step process for figuring out if I’m gay, or bi, or whatever.”
“You’re really jumping into this with both feet, huh?”
“Yeah, why not? I’ve already crossed gay porn off the list. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me how fucking hot that was, by the way.”
He runs a hand through his short black hair. “Jesus, Pres, is that what you’ve been jerking off to all week?”
My grin gets wider.
He lets out a breath and turns back to his computer. “Just give me a second and I’ll change.”
“Awesome,” I say, and knock on the door jamb. “I’ll be in my room.”
Chris shows up in my doorway ten minutes later, dressed in black pants that cling to his legs like a second skin, and a white mesh long sleeve shirt that only has buttons at the bottom, leaving the top wide open to expose his toned chest. It looks amazing against his chocolate colored skin and shows off the rose tattoo on his left pec.
“You look good,” I say, and I think it’s the first time I’ve actually acknowledged how good he looks for a night out. Man, I’m noticing a whole lot of stuff now that I never did before. And I’m about ninety percent sure that I am not straight.
I’m pretty sure I hear his breath hitch a little but he just clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets as he looks me over. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”
I look down at myself, dressed in track pants and a tank with a ketchup stain on it, or maybe it’s blood, I can’t remember. “Um, I guess not.”
He shakes his head. “Ditch the baseball cap,” he says, then throws open the closet door and starts rummaging through my things. “Hop in the shower while I find something for you.”
“I showered this morning,” I argue.
He raises an eyebrow at me and I groan. “Fine.”
I head down the hall to the shower and decide I might as well jerk off while I’m in there. Coffee Shop Guy is front and center in my mind as I stroke myself. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp, my cock leaking precum like crazy as I picture him on his knees, taking me down his throat, his slender fingers gripping my hips and ass, raven hair soaking wet and plastered to his head, his cock bobbing as he moans around my shaft.
“Shit!” I cry out, and spray all over the shower wall. My chest is heaving, my breaths coming in harsh pants. Fuck, that was amazing. I take a second to breathe before I wash off as quickly as I can and step out, wrapping a towel around my waist and padding back down the hall.
When I get to my room, Chris has two different outfits sitting on the bed. I don’t bother asking him to leave or turn around before I drop my towel and slide into my boxer briefs. He’s seen me naked a million times since I’ve never been shy about my body and am too lazy to close the door when I change.
“Christ,” he murmurs.
“Those my options?” I say, running my fingers through my damp hair.
He glances at me. “Yeah, just depends on what you’re going for.”
“Are those even mine?” I ask, because I don’t recognize them.
“No, they’re mine, because your closet consists of nothing but track pants and shirts with holes and stains.”
I shrug. “They’re comfortable.”
“Well, you can’t show up looking like you went three rounds with a grizzly bear or had a fight with a ketchup packet and lost.”
“I’ve gone out like that before,” I huff, arms crossed over my chest. “The girls I’ve fucked don’t seem to mind.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“Do you want my help or not?” he says, and I sigh and nod. He points to the dark wash jeans, white button up shirt and leather jacket. “That if you’re looking more to be in the background observing but still looking like a respectable member of society, and that,” he points to the see through floral lace short sleeved shirt, “if you want to get some attention.” It’s hard to tell, because his skin is so dark, but I’m pretty sure he’s flushing when he adds, “the see through one would show off your tats nicely.”
“Yeah?” I say, and he nods. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think this time I want to just be observing.”
He nods. “Let me know when you’re ready to do something with your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I ask, and he just chuckles and shakes his head as he heads out of the room.
I groan. Jesus, is being gay going to be this much work all the time? Because I don’t know if I can do it.
I slide into the jeans and shirt. They’re both ridiculously tight, but I have to admit the pants make my ass look amazing and the shirt does a great job of showing off my swimmer’s build. Chris drags me to the bathroom after I’ve gotten my socks and shoes on and runs some styling gel through my hair. It does make it look a bit more put together and it smells good so I can’t complain.
I slide on the leather jacket and realize how much it makes my blue eyes stand out. Damn, I look good.
“Thanks,” I tell Chris, clapping him on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
He nods and we head out the door.
Being at a queer club when you’re actually there out of curiosity and not just as a wingman for your best friend is a very different experience. My eyes are perusing from the moment we walk in the door, greeted by the scent of alcohol and lemon. The music is upbeat and lively and there is a swarm of sweaty half naked bodies on the dance floor. I might be brave enough to dance at some point, but right now I just want to sit back and see what, or who, tickles my fancy.
Chris and I find a booth in the corner after grabbing drinks. I’m only a few sips into mine, my gaze flitting from one guy to the next, trying to take it all in, when I see my guy. He’s on the dance floor with the same guy and girl he was with at the coffee shop, his arms up and his hips swaying seductively. Fuck, I almost swallow my tongue at the sight of him. He looks just as sexy as he did the first time I laid eyes on him, and my cock is thickening in my pants in an instant. Shit. What is it about him? Maybe it’s the way he moves, maybe it’s the fact that he stands out in this crowd with all that jewelry and jet black hair. Maybe it’s the rockstar look that’s got me all hot and bothered. I don’t know, but I find myself holding back a whimper as I stare at him. He smiles as he runs his hands along his chest and then raises his arms above his head again.
“Hey,” Chris says, “I’m gonna go dance, you coming?”
“Uh, no, I’m good,” I say, and he leaves me staring at Coffee Shop Guy. He’s dressed in a silver vest and black pants and sweat beads his forehead as he moves sinuously, doing things with his body that have my dick pressing hard against my zipper.
I watch as he slows his movements and says something to the short dude with the curly hair dancing next to him. His friend halts his movement and looks towards the bar. When I see that the short dude is walking away and that the pretty girl he came with is busy dancing up on another girl, I think this is my chance to go over there and say something. But I can’t fucking do it. He’s so pretty, and I have no idea what I would say, so I just stare at him some more like a fucking creeper.
I take another sip of my drink, thinking maybe some liquid courage will help. Then another, and another. I have no idea where Chris is. I can’t see him through the crowd, and I really wish he were here to help me figure out how to approach Coffee Shop Guy.
By the time I’ve decided to risk making an idiot out of myself I’ve lost sight of him, and the next thing I know I see him racing towards the exit with his friends.
Well, fuck.