Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Malcolm
SOS!!!!
He’d lain awake most of the night, unable to stop thinking about what had happened in Bull’s truck.
The few times he’d managed to doze off, his subconscious had helpfully replayed the scene, except he didn’t run away afterward.
Oh no. In his dreams, he stayed, and Bull used that huge dick of his to?—
He shivered.
His mind wouldn’t stop swinging wildly back and forth between abject shock at what he’d done and a horniness unlike any he’d ever experienced before.
Which was probably what was freaking him out the most. Not only had he sucked another man’s dick, but…
he’d loved it. He’d gotten hard as hell knowing he was turning Bull on so much, yeah, but also from the silky feel of his cock against his tongue and the inside of his cheeks.
The taste of him. The overwhelming way he’d struggled to take even half of the length into his mouth.
And then there was the way Bull had talked to him.
The man had barely spoken to him all the months they’d worked together, but the second his dick was out of his pants, it was like he couldn’t hold back, telling him how to please him and what a good job he was doing.
“Fuck…” he groaned, turning to yell into his pillow. He was hard. Again.
His balls ached from being in a constant state of arousal all night, like he hadn’t come in weeks or months. Except… he had come.
In his pants.
From Bull telling him how perfect he was at sucking his giant cock.
His phone vibrated, startling him, and he dug through his bedding until he found it.
LBF
What happened?? Are you okay??
Was he? Bull had asked the same thing after coming all over Malcolm’s face. He still had no idea if he was or not.
Malcolm
I did something really dumb
Like… really dumb
LBF
Oh god, what did Ollie convince you to do? Dance on a table or something? Is there video evidence? Have Bull call Six. He’ll make Ollie delete it.
He chuckled breathlessly. God, he wished that was all it was. If he’d just gotten drunk and acted like an idiot, his morning might have been more physically painful from the hangover, but he’d probably not be having an existential crisis on whether he was gay now.
Malcolm
Worse
LBF
Okay spill. You’re really starting to scare me.
Rubbing at his face, he asked if they could talk on the phone, then felt even worse.
Malcolm
You’re probably super busy getting ready for the shower. It’s fine. We can talk when you get home.
He’d barely hit Send, and his phone was vibrating with an incoming call… an incoming video call.
Groaning, he answered, one arm thrown over his face.
“What are you doing? I can’t see you,” Dahlia said as soon as they connected. There was some noise in the background, music and a few other feminine voices, but it went quiet a second later. “Okay, I’m locked in Becca’s parents’ bathroom. Tell me what happened.”
He took a deep breath. He could do this. He wanted someone to talk to, and Dahlia was his best friend. She wouldn’t judge him. “I sucked Bull’s dick.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. A really long moment. Finally, “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that. Can you uncover your face and repeat yourself? There’s no way I heard what I thought I did.”
He ripped his arm away and glared at his best friend, her face beautifully done up in dramatic makeup and hair curled into loose waves. “I said I sucked Bull’s dick!”
She rolled her lips inward, looking down at the floor.
“Are you… are you trying not to laugh?” He scrambled upright, indignant and a little hurt. “I’m serious!”
Shaking her head, she snorted, then cleared her throat and looked up at the phone. “I’m sorry. I just… I really thought my ears were messing with me when you said that the first time. Are you freaking out?”
“ Of course I’m freaking out !”
She jerked the phone back, grimacing. “Whoa.”
He took another breath. “Sorry, I just… My whole life, I thought… and now I’m suddenly gay?
Or bi. Or whatever. All because he was so nice and I wanted to do something nice for him and my brain was dumb and decided licking his dick was the best thank-you I could give him and now how am I supposed to ever look him in the eye again? I know what his dick tastes like, Lia!”
Without realizing it, he’d glanced away, panting and gesturing at his dim, empty apartment like she was across the room. When he refocused on the screen, she was staring at him with wide eyes, a hand covering her mouth.
“Please say something,” he whispered, bending his knees and wrapping his arm around his legs.
“I’m trying to decide what would be most helpful right now,” she said back, just as softly. “I don’t want to downplay your feelings, but one blowjob does not have to mean you’re queer. Lots of straight people experiment, and it doesn’t change their orientation.”
He knew that was true, but… it wasn’t how last night had felt.
What had happened between him and Bull had felt profoundly life-changing.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “But what if…”
“What if?”
“What if I liked it. A lot.”
Her face scrunched up in thought. “Like you enjoyed doing something nice for him, or you enjoyed doing it.”
It was his turn to make a face as he thought about that. “Maybe both? And…”
“What?” Her eyes widened again, like she was preparing herself for another bombshell.
“I liked how he, um, talked to me. During.”
Her lips parted. “Bull’s a dirty talker? I should have guessed! It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”
His face was on fire, but he forced himself to power on. “What do I do?”
“What do you want to do? How did you leave things afterward? If you agreed it was just a onetime thing, I don’t know that you need to worry he’ll make it weird. Bull’s not the type.”
“Um.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You guys did talk about it, right?”
“Not so much.” He covered his face again as she sighed at him.
“Poor little confused straight boy,” she tsked.
He peeked through his fingers. “I don’t think I’m straight, Lia.”
Saying it out loud like that eased some of the pressure in his chest. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t known his whole twenty-two years that he liked men too, but he could ponder that later.
In that moment, it was freeing just to admit it to another person, the thing that had been circling his brain for hours.
He wasn’t straight.
Her face gentled into a half smile. “Me either. Which leaves one question.”
“Only one?”
“One, most important, question.”
“What’s that?” But he was pretty sure he knew what she was going to say.
Guilt over how he’d done a disappearing act on Bull had been eating at him.
He may not have had the exact same thing happen to him before, but he’d been ghosted, ignored, lied to, and made to feel less than more times than he cared to remember.
Bull deserved better than that. They both did. And not just because of work.
Instead of asking if he was going to go and talk to Bull, she was the one to land a bombshell. “Do you have feelings for Bull?”
His belly swooped, heart picking up its pace. Feelings? No, of course not. He barely knew Bull. How could he have feelings for the man?
He opened his mouth to tell her that, to brush off all the warm and fuzzies he’d gotten when Bull had rescued him. And then invited him out to cheer him up. And then watched over him all night.
Called him gorgeous.
Told him how perfect he was.
Possessively touched and marked him.
“Oh, shit.”
He cleared his throat and wiped his palms on his thighs twice. He could totally do this. It was just a conversation. And an apology for running away. And maybe a suggestion they could do some other stuff?
If he was brave enough to suggest that. He wasn’t sure he was ready for everything , but he really had enjoyed sucking Bull off. The way he’d taken control, guiding Malcolm’s head and telling him how well he was doing…
Heat coursed through him, and he bit his lip.
Yeah, he wouldn’t say no to doing that again.
The drive to Bull’s was quicker than his racing heart would have liked, but it wasn’t like he could make the town bigger by force of will.
He passed the yarn place on Main Street and felt the same lurch in his chest he always did.
Before his nan passed, she’d taught him to crochet and would invite him over to work on projects together.
She’d always bought their yarn and supplies, so he’d been shocked the first time he’d gone into the shop—when he could look at the place and not be overwhelmed with grief—at the prices.
His budget didn’t allow for “frivolous” things like hobbies.
He asked for supplies for his birthday and Christmas that year, but his family had ignored him, making snide remarks about how crocheting wasn’t something he should like to do as a guy.
Turning onto Bull’s street, he cringed, imagining their reactions when they found out he wasn’t straight.
His parents would either call him a liar, tell him he was being selfish somehow, or not care at all.
But not in the we-love-our-child-no-matter-what kind of not caring.
The kind that made him feel small and insignificant because they made it clear they didn’t care about him .
Evan would probably be an asshole and say he’d always known Malcolm was fruity .
That’s what he called queer people, because he was secretly a Boomer stuck in the seventies.
He couldn’t really think about that right now.
He’d talked to Dahlia for nearly an hour before Becca had come looking for her when people started showing up for the shower, and she’d helped him wrap his head around the realization of his orientation.
He still felt sort of ridiculous that he hadn’t known before, but he also couldn’t ever remember really looking at men and feeling attracted to them or wanting to date them.
He hadn’t even noticed his growing feelings for Bull until after he’d sucked the man’s cock.
How could he be so oblivious?