26. Orion
Orion
Credit where credit is due, things have been surprisingly normal between us.
It’s been almost a week since we fucked, and Jordan is acting like his old self.
Mostly. He’s still making oddly strong eye contact when I’ve been out and he asks me where I’ve been when I return home.
I’ve been getting random alerts on my phone that he’s using Find My to track me when I’m on campus.
He usually only does that when he’s hungry and I’m bringing takeout home for us, so I’m not sure what that’s about.
But aside from that, he’s being himself.
We’ve been moving around each other like we always do. Sharing meals. Going to the gym. He’s been yelling at the TV during hockey games, and I’ve been yelling at him to simmer down. The usual. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Full disclosure, I’ve been a little out of the ordinary, so I might not be in the best position to notice things being abnormal around me.
Since taking a dick, I’ve kind of lost control of my own dick.
I’m horny all the time. All the time. I’ve never jerked off this much in my life.
I can hardly concentrate if I don’t have my hand on my cock, and I can’t concentrate at all when I do.
Seriously, there’s rampant horniness, and then there’s whatever this is. It’s not only about my dick either. It’s about my hole too. And my brain. It’s like my entire being has tasted something and realized it can’t live without it.
It’s so bad that my vision tunnels when I haven’t jacked off in a couple of hours. My face feels hot and my blood pumps slowly. My dick gets so hard that my balls ache and my lower belly cramps.
I can’t think of anything except being naked with Jordan. What happened between us plays in the background constantly. My mind keeps doing this fucked-up thing where it spits out new memories from an old event.
Like the way Jordan bit his lip when he was buried deep. Incisors dragging over soft skin, pinning it down before slowly releasing it.
Like the sound he made when I came. I was the one coming apart, but he moaned almost as loudly as I did. His voice cracked when he did it. The husk in it broke and spun in a different direction than it usually does.
My dick stirs at the memory. I glance at my phone, trying to work out if I should jack off again. I find that it’s less than twenty minutes since the last time I got off.
That’s not good.
It’s like jerking off isn’t helping anymore. It’s making it worse.
Jordan saunters over to the fridge, opens the door, and looks into it for so long that I can tell he’s attempting to manifest a large delivery of groceries we haven’t ordered. His spine curves deeply as he riffles through the cheese drawer.
He’s fully dressed, but I see him the way he looked that night.
Naked.
Bare all over.
Sun-kissed skin and tan lines I should have bitten.
“I ran into West earlier,” I say, my voice a little strident.
His brows pop up amiably. “Yeah? What’s up with him?”
“Nothing much. He said he was going to Benny’s tomorrow and asked if we wanted to come.”
Benny’s is a neat little bar downtown. They have wood-fired pizzas and a good drink special on Thursdays.
“Is Andy going to be there?” Jordan asks, turning back to the fridge to examine the next half-empty produce drawer.
His arm is still slung over the top of the fridge door, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, and one side of his T-shirt is riding up to show a suggestion of skin.
Fuck. He looks hot.
Wonder if he’d mind if I undid his pants and stuffed his cock in my mouth in lieu of dinner?
What am I thinking?
Of course he’d mind. He’s straight.
“Yeah, he’ll be there.”
Jordan spins around, making a face similar to the one he made when he bit into the orange the night we had the big fight.
Something is definitely up with him when it comes to Andy and West. I’ve started to worry that I seriously offended him with what I said about West being gifted.
Maybe I should be done with it and tell Jordan I’ll let him take care of my investments, not West. Future wealth and financial stability be damned.
“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “I dunno. Sounds kinda lame.” I’m about to argue because in the history of pizza there’s never been a single lame thing about it, when he continues, “You know what we should do though?”
I shake my head, bewildered. Truthfully, I’m only half-interested and a lot horny.
“We should check out Dorothy’s.”
It’s the last thing I’m expecting him to say. “Um, that’s a gay club, Jordan.”
“I know that, Orion. I said I’d be your wingman, remember? When we had our little”—he makes a small, furtive hand motion because he doesn’t want to refer to our fight directly—“thing. I said I’d go out with you, didn’t I? So, let’s do that tomorrow instead of Benny’s.”
Now, between you and me, I’d like to go to a gay club with Jordan Slater as much as I’d like to stick pins in my eyes—and that’s taking into account my serious phobia of needles.
Off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything I want to do less.
For one thing, he’s going to hate it. For another, the mere thought of hooking up with someone else makes my skin crawl.
A deluge of unpleasant emotion pools in my rib cage and sinks to my belly.
This is a sign. Maybe this is the sign I need to let me know it’s time to move on. What happened between Jordan and me is done. It was an earth-shattering, life-changing experience, but it was a one-time thing.
It was a big deal to me, but it was no big deal to him, and I need to remember that.
I need to get over it. I have to.
I’ve needed to get over Jordan for years. I’ve thought about doing it incessantly, and I’ve lied to myself a lot about my progress, but maybe it’s time for me to actually do it.