Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
PERCY
My hands are still a little shaky and my heart is pounding as I jog up the stairs to my apartment.
I could maybe blame both of those things on the fact that I’m pathetically out of shape and I speed-walked most of the way back from Sweet, but the horny ache between my legs definitely can’t be attributed to exercise.
Hell, if exercise made my fun bits tingle like this, I’d have started doing it regularly a long time ago.
I shake my head at myself and juggle the coffees and bag of Danishes into one hand so I can unlock the door.
I am absolutely not going to do something as cliché as develop a crush on the first buff gymbo I’ve ever met.
Although, okay, maybe that’s exactly what happened, and I totally got honey potted into agreeing to a gym membership.
Ugh, it was that deep, encouraging voice though, gently coaching me on how to properly arm wrestle. That should not have been as sexy as it was, but damn I want to hear him instruct me how to do everything.
“Good, good, good, that’s right, slide the key right into the slot nice and easy.” My dick gives a little twitch, and I swallow down a groan as I shoulder the door open and then kick it closed behind me.
“Jun- oh,” I laugh as my roommate appears right in front of me, still bleary eyed with bed head. Their short hair is sticking up on one side and they’re dressed in an oversized The Clash T-shirt that comes down to their mid-thigh. Their eyes drop to the coffee and the paper bag in my hand.
“Gimme,” Juno grunts, snatching both and immediately tearing the lid off their cup so they can guzzle down the caffeine without being limited by the stupid little hole.
Their superhuman immunity to scalding hot beverages never ceases to amaze me.
I’ve seen them eat pizza rolls right out of the microwave too without even having to do that stupid open-mouthed ha-ha-ha thing when the lava-temperature filling bursts out of the puff.
“You’re welcome,” I deadpan, taking a sip from my own chai latte. “It’s a wonder you’re still single with manners like that.”
They give me the finger and keep gulping for another few seconds before lowering the cup, wiping their hand across their mouth, and eyeing me curiously.
“Why do you look so flushed and sweaty? You just had an adviser meeting, didn’t you?”
Heat rises in my cheeks, and I shrug.
“It’s surprisingly warm out and I ran most of the way home so your coffee wouldn’t get cold,” I lie.
Juno eyes me suspiciously for another second, then shrugs and tears into the Danish. I kick off my shoes and set my latte on the little table next to the door where we toss our keys and our mail.
“So, how’d it go?” They mumble around a mouthful, following me down the short hallway and then stopping in my doorway to lean against the doorframe. I strip my sweater over my head, trading it for a more comfortable T-shirt since I’m going to be spending most of the day at home grading papers.
We’ve been rooming together since our freshman year of college when we were both assigned to share a dorm.
I don’t know if it was ironic or just kismet that we were paired together in the female dorms and before the end of our first year we both realized we didn’t belong there.
We helped each other work through our gender confusion, supported each other when we each came out to our families, and have even played home nurse for each other after various surgeries.
So, changing with Juno standing in the doorway doesn’t give me any pause.
“Weird but fine.” I toss my clothes on top of my dresser since they didn’t actually get dirty and pull on a pair of joggers that wouldn’t know the meaning of jogging.
“Weird how?” They brush the crumbs off of their shirt, leaving an annoying little pile of flakey crust right inside the threshold of my room.
“Dude,” I mutter, and they use their foot to ‘clean up.’ “Uh, sorry, no the meeting with my adviser was normal and fine, aside from the fact that I’m stressing about still not having my thesis topic narrowed down.
The weird part came after,” I answer with a laugh, dragging my fingers through my curly hair in a fruitless attempt to tame it a little.
“Are you going to make me guess?” they tease.
“No, it was just…”
“Weird,” Juno repeats for me when I trail off.
“Yes,” I chuckle. “I was on my way back from campus, and I remember that there’s supposed to be some great new bakery in Boystown.
” I gesture to their Danish. “So, I got off the bus a few stops early, and I accidentally ended up inside a gym instead of a bakery. Some massive guy named Butch challenged me to arm wrestle him.” My face heats again at the memory and my stomach squirms. “And I might have accidentally agreed to a couple of free personal training sessions with him or something,” I mumble the last part while I pull my T-shirt over my head.
“Was he hot?”
Of course that’s Juno’s first question.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know, I guess. It’s not like it matters.”
“Well, it would explain why you keep blushing.” They smirk like they just check-mated me.
And, dammit, I blush all over again.
“I’m not blushing,” I grumble. “And even if I were blushing, it still wouldn’t matter.
Some gorgeous gym hunk is not going to be interested in my skinny, pale ass.
Besides, I haven’t even managed to work up the nerve to test drive all this,” I gesture to my dick, “with another person, and there is no way in hell that the first time I do it will be with someone as gorgeous and… manly as Butch.”
“But you want to?” Their eyebrows go up and their smile widens.
“Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?” I grab the nearly empty coffee cup out of Juno’s hand as I shoulder past, just to be a dick, and they punch me in the back in protest. I guess maybe I kind of understand what Butch meant about siblings earlier.
I set their coffee down and pick my chai back up to take a sip.
“Besides all that, what would be the point of drooling over some big, muscley himbo? The jock-nerd thing is only a trope in romance, not in real life.”
Juno looks downright offended. “I refuse to believe that.”
“Believe what you want. Some of us try to live in reality.”
“Good luck with that,” Juno mutters, as if I'm the weirdo here. I love their optimism but come on. Not even in my dreams.
BUTCH
“How many miles you got today so far?” Callan asks, hopping onto the treadmill next to me while we’re both in between training clients.
“Not as many as you,” I assure him with a grunted laugh.
“Bro, the victory isn’t satisfying if I don’t know how much I’ve won by,” he complains.
Honestly, I haven’t even been keeping track today, which isn’t like me at all.
But my head is still stuck on that twink who came in this morning.
Percy Rockton with those stunning blue eyes and cheekbones that would look fantastic with cum dripping from them.
PhD student at University of Chicago, undergraduate minor in journalism and major in cultural studies, and now he’s studying anthropology.
Lives with someone named Juno who looks punk as hell with a lip ring and an eyebrow piercing, along with blue hair that’s styled in spikes in most of their pictures.
Not that I spent half my day social media stalking him or anything.
No question at all, he’s miles out of my league.
But that’s chill. So, he’s cute. It’s not like there’s any shortage of cute guys who come in here. Hell, there are at least five certified snacks in here at any given moment, including right now.
“I can’t tell if you’re stonewalling me or if I used too many big words,” Callan teases, and I grunt out another half-laugh.
“Just running,” I lie, cranking up my speed. Callan takes it as a challenge and does the same.
“You know what I was thinking?” AJ saunters over and claims the treadmill on my other side. “We should do another camping trip before the weather gets too cold.”
“It’s already too cold,” Fender says, stretching on the mat a few feet away after spending the last hour running a boxing class.
“No way,” AJ argues. “It’s not too cold until there’s actual frost.”
“You just want the excuse to cram into a one-person tent with that hot ass boyfriend of yours,” Fender teases.
AJ laughs but doesn’t deny it. “Jealous?”
“Of the fact that you have a boyfriend?” he scoffs. “No way. Boyfriends require too much care and attention. You have to feed them, walk them, and they need constant reassurance.”
I frown. “I think that’s puppies, man.”
Fender waves his hand dismissively. “Same difference. At least puppies can be trained.”
“I’d be down for camping,” Silas chimes in.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Let’s pick a weekend.”
Fender might not be jealous that AJ and his boyfriend Slater will be stuffed into a too-small tent together, but I definitely am.
It’s been fucking ages since I’ve had a boyfriend to get all snuggly and cramped with.
Maybe it’s time I change the settings on my M4M profile from ‘looking for something casual’ to ‘looking for something serious.’ But the thought alone makes me feel exhausted.
I’d rather meet someone organically, like we both reach for the same dumbbell and when our eyes meet, we already know it’s on. You know, the usual way people meet.
“Fine,” Fender sighs. “But that means I need to find someone to keep me warm for a weekend.”
“Crossing Swords tomorrow night?” Callan suggests.
“Hell yeah,” Fender cheers. “Daddy needs to get his dick sucked.”
I snort. “Since when are you Daddy?”
“I meant you. You forget we share a wall and it’s been way too long since I’ve heard any bed shaking coming from your room.”
I wish I could argue with him, but he’s right, I’ve been in a dry spell.
“Creepy that you’re listening, but you’re not wrong,” I agree with a sigh.
Meeting someone at the club is better than an app at least. Who knows, maybe I’ll trip over the man of my dreams on the dance floor, and we’ll live happily ever after. A dude can hope, right?