32. Jordan
Jordan
It turns out, Kirst was right. I’ve somehow managed to develop a thing for Orion.
I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t see it coming. One minute life was good and I was normal, and the next, I was offering to fuck him, let him suck my dick, and losing my mind at the thought of him doing either of those things with anyone else.
Kirst was right about something else too.
I don’t have a problem with Orion being gay at all.
I really don’t mind. I have no problem with him being gay, as long as I’m the only one he does gay things with.
All this messed up crap I’ve been feeling comes down to something embarrassingly simple: I’m jealous.
I can’t stand the thought of him being with other guys.
Not because there’s anything wrong with other guys, not even because I’m worried about how they’ll treat him, but because I’m possessive and want Orion for myself.
I can see now that I’m crushing on him epically and have been for a while.
Any idiot can see that I’m smitten with him.
It’s humiliating that it took me so long to identify what I was feeling.
It’s obvious when I think about it now. It’s understandable too because he’s the best person I know, and he gets hotter every time I lay eyes on him.
What I don’t understand is why I’m being so weird about it.
Instead of telling him how I feel, I’m overthinking things, which isn’t something I usually do.
Can’t say I care for it. It’s awful. I keep playing scenarios out in my mind all the time, and getting deliriously happy or very upset about them, even though I know they aren’t real and haven’t actually happened.
I think of Orion all the time, and definitely not always in a PG way.
I can’t take my eyes off his body.
Fuck. I can’t believe how much I like it.
I can’t believe I’ve known him for years and didn’t realize I’m into him. I can’t believe I lived with him for a single day without checking his ass out. I mean, seriously, how the hell did I do that?
Now here I am, following him around the apartment like a puppy to catch a glimpse of it.
I go out of my way to walk behind him when he takes the stairs, actively trying not to drool as his cheeks rise and fall in front of me.
The thing is, they’re so fucking round, man.
And they’re like, there. All the time. In front of me, within reach.
I’ve been craning my head at him so hard these past few days at the gym that I’m going to need to see a physical therapist if I don’t get my shit together soon.
I’m exhausted from being horny all the time, and I can’t sleep because I keep hoping Orion will come to my room and get into bed with me.
I lie awake for hours planning out what I’m going to say to him the next day that will explain what’s going on.
But the second I see him, I’m rendered mute by the absolute terror of what will happen if I shoot my shot and he turns me down.
I can’t understand why I’m being like this.
Rejection is a normal part of life. It is.
It hurts. It sucks, but life goes on. My own personal belief has always been that getting comfortable with rejection plays a big role in a person’s success.
My mom always says, “It’s not failure. It’s an opportunity to learn.
” She says it about all kinds of life events, but I’ve always applied the sentiment to relationships and hookups too.
Striking out is fine. It happens. If you strike out nine times and get laid once, you still got what you wanted, you know?
I don’t let a fear of rejection slow my roll.
At least, I didn’t. Now, I’m not so sure what I do or don’t do.
One thing I do know is that I’m being awkward as hell around Orion, and he’s noticed, and he minds it.
Oh great. Just great. There’s Orion, and there’s his perfect ass. Just attached to his body like always. Quaking gently as he walks from the stovetop to the fridge, scrambling my brain worse than the eggs he’s intentionally scrambling for our breakfast.
He’s wearing sleep shorts and no shirt, and I can’t understand how I ever saw him like this without sprouting a boner. His shorts are well worn. The fabric looks soft to the touch. It’s the kind of fabric that looks like it’s asking to be touched.
To be stroked lightly, following the curve of his ass and back up again.
To be groped, squeezed, and handled for a good, long while before being yanked down.
Orion grabs the toast when it pops up, turning to face me briefly before setting to work, slathering it with butter. He doesn’t face me for long, a couple of seconds at most, but it’s long enough for my gaze to wander to his bulge and settle on it.
I’ve been doing that lately. My obsession with his ass and mouth seems to be extending to a very notable curiosity about his dick.
I tell myself firmly that it’s rude to look at him like this, and that I should stop it at once. The man is trying to make us a nutritious breakfast. The last thing he needs is me sexually objectifying him when he hasn’t even had his coffee.
It doesn’t help at all. I ignore my own advice completely because I can’t shake the spine-tingling knowledge that Orion’s dick is lolling in his pants right now.
He’s commando under his sleep shorts, so I know his dick is swinging loose, swaying gently from side to side as he pads around the kitchen.
A warm buzz travels down my lower belly, settling in my groin, and my own dick starts to swell.
When our breakfast is ready, we sit at the counter together. Before we dig in, Orion’s phone pings several times.
“Huh,” he says, crunching thoughtfully on a bite of toast as he reads the messages.
“Who is it?”
“It’s West.”
“What does he want this early on a Saturday morning?”
“He wants to know if we’re free. They’re going up to Tyler’s parents’ cabin in the Catskills for the night, and he wants to know if we want to join. Rowan and Riley were going to go, but they canceled this morning because they ate something suspect and they’re feeling like shit. Literally.”
Tyler!
Oh fuck, I forgot about Tyler. He’s one of Andy’s best friends, and he’s gay too.
How did I not notice how many queer guys I’m friends with?
I’m about to launch myself into a strong rejection of the plan when I remind myself of what Kirst said. Gay guys aren’t the problem. I’m the problem.
Tyler is a very nice person, and I always have a blast when I’m around him. Andy is great too. A little too good-looking, but it’s not like he can help that.
Orion tilts his head toward me and clutches his hands together beneath his chin.
“Come on. Please. It will be fun,” he says.
There’s no chance in hell of me denying him a thing when he looks that adorable, so I’m about to agree when he adds, “Uh, just one thing: Sarah’s already agreed to come along too, so West said we’ll have to share a room if we go.
I don’t have a problem with it, but if you mind, we can skip it. ”
“Are you kidding?” I boom. “Let’s do it! It’s been way too long since we’ve gone on a road trip.”
We packed in a hurry, me a little more so than Orion, but I’m keen to hit the road as soon as possible.
We’re only going to be away for the night, so it makes sense to maximize the time we get to spend at the cabin.
In under twenty minutes, we’re filling up with gas and stocking up on car snacks.
My mood is next level. I’m overjoyed about the trip.
I love hanging out with friends, and I love doing spontaneous things.
And when I think about it, it’s been a while since I did either of those things.
There’s no better time than the present to correct it.
Orion drives and I sing along loudly to the Road Trippin’ playlist I made years back when we first got our driver’s licenses.
When I’m not doing that, I hand Orion snacks and drinks and daydream about asking him to stop so I can give him head.
After a while, it occurs to me that I wouldn’t even have to ask him to stop the car.
If he was up for it, I’d be more than happy to give him road head.
I mean, yeah, technically, it is kind of dangerous, but I’ve never sucked a dick, so I probably wouldn’t be good enough to make him crash, right?
Pfft.
Who am I kidding? I’d definitely be good enough to make us crash.
It’s not the safest idea, but the beauty of road head is that it wouldn’t cost us any time because we wouldn’t have to stop the car. We’d still be at the cabin as per the time estimate on Orion’s GPS app.
The more I think about it, the more it seems like a solid plan, and after a while, the danger of crashing stops bothering me at all. I’m at the point where I’m mentally testing out the words to see what they feel like in my mouth when Orion says, “I came out to my mom this morning.”
I didn’t know he was thinking about doing that. It’s a big deal that he felt ready to do it, and I’m proud of him.
“No way? Congrats, bud.”
I don’t need to ask if she was supportive. I’ve known Ms. Brent for years, and she’s cool through and through, but I understand how daunting it must have been for him to have that conversation with her.
“Yeah,” he says with a wry smile. “She was great. It was pretty funny. She did this thing where she tried to act surprised when I first told her because she’d read somewhere that you shouldn’t say you already know when people come out to you.
Apparently it makes them feel like you’re stealing their thunder or something.
But there was this little delay in her response that gave her away. ”
It’s things like this that make me love moms. They’re the best. You can’t get a thing past them. “So she knew all along?”
“Yeah, once I got her to fess up, she said the only thing that surprised her about me coming out was how long I’d taken to do it.”