Chapter 28 Mat
Mat
It’s light in my room. Glaringly bright and not just because it’s midmorning.
We passed out without drawing the curtains last night.
My mouth feels dry. So do my eyes. Unsurprising as it was the kind of night that can be excused for leaving one dehydrated.
I don’t need to look over to the other side of my bed to know Will is still sleeping.
I can hear the soft hiss of his breath on the exhale.
I don’t know when Trouble left exactly, but it was still dark when I reached out for him and felt nothing but cool sheets where he should have been.
Not going to lie. A whole lot of things are hitting me all at once.
Last night was off the hook. Off-the-charts unexpected.
Full-on surprising. Of all the ways I would have predicted the night playing out, what happened is easily not in the top hundred.
Probably not even in the top thousand. I can’t believe it happened.
I can’t believe how unreal it was. It felt like something else.
Something other. Something totally different from anything I’ve ever done before.
The second I touched Trouble, I got this warm, buzzing feeling around my face.
It’s morning now, and I know it’s been hours since he left, but I can still feel it.
It feels like the air around my skin is dense and electric.
My hands and my chest feel hot just from thinking about him.
I can’t believe we got to be with him. I can’t believe that out of all the guys who wanted him, we got him. It feels almost like a dream.
Will expels a deep breath beside me. His lips trap the air, making a soft frothing sound as he releases it.
“You awake?” I say, though I know damn well he isn’t.
His eye lids flutter but don’t open. “No, shithead, I’m not.”
He presses his face into the pillow, and I wonder if it’s because he’s feeling how I’m feeling.
Euphoric-slash-uncertain. It’s not that this is the first time we’ve shared a bed.
Far from it. It’s happened lots of times before.
We’ve crashed drunk at various friends’ places over the years.
Hell, we’ve crashed drunk in our place a few times and fallen asleep together in his bed or mine.
When we both had COVID a couple of years back, my chest was super tight, and he slept in my bed so he could check on me during the night.
It’s not a big deal. Sharing a bed would never be a big deal for us.
It would be damn stupid to make a huge thing out of it if you ask me.
But I will admit that the fact neither of us is wearing pants right now is throwing me a little.
It’s kind of weird that it’s weird. Neither of us is a prude.
I walk around in boxers all the time. Some of the time, I wear a whole lot less.
Will complains about it, but that’s only because he feels like he has to.
We’ve shared a bathroom since we were eighteen.
Believe me, there’s nothing we haven’t seen.
The only reason it’s different now is because of the circumstances leading up to our nudity.
Because, yeah, scratch that, last night, a whole lot of shit went down that we’ve never seen before.
I sit up and look down at Will. He has the sheets pulled up to his neck and his face smooshed into the pillow.
Black hair and olive skin stand out in contrast to the white linen.
I can already tell his eyes will be puffy when he gets around to opening them.
They’re always puffy when he hasn’t had enough sleep.
Last night was many things, but restful ain’t one of them.
I roll out of bed, glancing around the floor, hoping to strike it lucky and spot a convenient way to get my ass under wraps. No luck. All I see are Will’s jeans and my socks.
“Put some pants on,” says Will.
“You put some pants on.”
He expels a low warning growl.
I do put pants on, but only because I want to. Not because he told me to. I’m going to the kitchen to make coffee, so while pants aren’t strictly speaking an essential, they are a nice-to-have. After the bacon grease incident of 2019, I definitely lean toward pants when cooking is involved.
I start some toast and get the coffee machine cranked up.
As I wait, I’m hit by a flurry of nerves.
Maybe it’s not nerves exactly. Maybe it’s more a flurry of reality.
Of what happened. Of what Will and I did.
We fully brought a guy home with us, and not only that, we took turns fucking him in both ends.
Jesus. It would be one thing to unpack it if I’d done something like this alone, but the fact Will was there definitely adds an extra dimension to the whole thing.
What if he regrets it?
What if it makes things between us awkward?
It would kill me if anything ever happened to change things between us.
We’ve been friends forever. Will and Mat.
Mat and Will. Everyone who knows us knows us as a duo.
Will's serious and steady. If you met us, you’d probably notice me more because when we’re out, I’m usually louder.
I have more friends, and I tend to go out more.
Left to his own devices, Will would love to stay home.
Unfortunately for him, I’d never dream of leaving him to his own devices.
If you don’t know us well, you might think I’m the one who calls the shots, but I’m not.
I follow him. I always have. Don’t know why, but I need him. Like, really, really need him.
If something ever happened to fuck up what we have, I seriously would not be okay.
“Where’s the coffee?” Will’s voice comes from the bedroom, deep and croaky, the same as it always is in the morning. “Hurry up. I’m dying here, bro.”
That makes me feel better. It instantly makes me feel reassured. This is our routine. It happens almost every day. I make the coffee and toast, and he yells at me to hurry the hell up.
By the time I get back to my room, he’s sitting up and leaning against the headboard.
I was right. His eyes are puffy as fuck.
They’re dark and smaller than usual, thanks to last night.
He shoots me a wry smile and raises a single eyebrow as I sit on the end of the bed.
I hand him his coffee and set the plate with four slices of butter-slathered toast on the bed between us.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, definitely. I’m fine. I’m super fine.” I’m aware I’m speaking a little too quickly, but I can’t slow myself down. “I’m fine, fine, fine.”
“You seem fine.”
Will has a droll, dry way of speaking and summing things up that always makes me chuckle.
“I mean, I’m still wrapping my head around it. It was a lot. It was…unexpected.”
He nods sagely and takes a huge bite of toast. I watch him chew, masticating slowly, seemingly savoring every morsel. Either he doesn’t have a care in the world, or he’s a way better actor than I’ve ever given him credit for.
“You good?” I ask after he’s swallowed and taken a tentative sip of coffee.
“Yeah, I’m good. I thought it would feel weird ‘cause God knows we crossed some lines last night, but it doesn’t. Not really.”
“Did, er, did you like it?”
“Course, I liked it. You were there. You saw me. I was into it.”
At this point, I can’t tell if we’re going to totally ignore the fact Trouble is a guy and simply focus on the fact we had a three-way or what. I’m unsure how to play it, so I follow his lead.
“I was into it too.”
He takes another sip of his coffee and smiles. “I could see that, you dick. You came in five seconds flat.”
“Please. It was way more than five seconds. And what was the bullshit you spouted about me not having a refractory period? How’d you know that?”
“I’ve heard you fuck, bro. These walls aren’t that thick. I’ve heard you banging out load after load plenty of times.”
I feel a curious mix of flattered and self-conscious. “You’ve heard me?”
“You haven’t heard me?”
“I mean, yeah, but I mainly hear the girls you’re with.
Not you…specifically. You’re usually quiet.
” He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.
The implication that last night was the exception weighs heavily in the air, and he doesn’t dispute it.
He can’t because I had a front-row seat.
The way he’s looking at me is starting to unnerve me.
He holds eye contact for too long. It feels like he’s looking for an answer, but I’m not sure what the question he wants to ask is.
Overall, I’m starting to feel flustered and uncomfortable, so I ask the question I want to ask.
“Do you feel freaked out about the fact we were with a guy?”
“Nope,” he says simply. “Thought I would, but I don’t. It felt…”
“Inevitable?”
“I was going to say unavoidable, but yeah, inevitable about covers it.”
“Trouble is…”
“Trouble’s a force of nature. We couldn’t have stopped what happened even if we wanted to.”
I feel uncomfortable again. Not just a little this time…a lot. “I, er, I think for me, I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to stop it.” It’s something I could easily go without saying, but because it’s Will, if I leave it unsaid, it’ll feel like I’m lying.
“Have you thought of doing something like that before?”
“Being in a three-way with you or being with a guy?” I ask.
“Being with a guy, dumbass.” The words I want to say stick in my throat. It’s not that I don’t want to say them or I’m ashamed or anything. At least, I hope I’m not. It’s just that I haven’t said them before.