6. Will
Chapter six
Will
N ever bottoms, my ass—or his ass, I guess. Either way, that’s a crock of shit and I called it. Talking to Mantis on the phone for the last week has been amazing, especially our conversation last night. He’s got such a sexy voice—the low and smooth kind, but not over-exaggerated like a bad porno. Talking to him never fails to make my cock swell, but at the same time I am a very visual guy. Most of us are.
Case in point, me resting my chin on my fist while staring at Bailey working his stand while Jess not-so-subtly glares in my peripheral vision. He can judge all he wants—I did most of the unpacking while he set up the displays earlier, just so he wouldn’t complain at me for slacking later. As if gazing at the sweetest specimen in existence were somehow a waste of time. People spend hours gazing at art in museums and Bailey’s not only living and breathing art, but a literal masterpiece. My personal David, walking among us.
“For some reason, I hoped talking to Mantis more would also mean watching Bailey less,” Jesse says from somewhere behind me.
“Fuck off, Jess,” I murmur. Of course, being my best friend means Jesse gets to hear all about me pining for Mantis, too. “At least Mantis understands and doesn’t discourage me. He’s given me a lot of good ideas about starting a conversation and approaching him.”
“And how long have I been telling you to go up to him and talk to him?”
I scoff. A technicality, and the most basic advice anyone can give.
Much in the same way that Jess and I conversing isn’t pressing enough for me to tear my eyes away from Bailey, he’s sneaking a glance at his phone between customers at his stand. Almost as if Bailey’s texting someone.
Maybe Mantis is right. Maybe Bailey has been a lost cause from the start, but I simply don’t know it yet. He came over to our stand again today and spent the entire time ignoring me and flirting with Jess. Another lost cause.
Then again, I’ve done a very… thorough search of the internet to learn more about Bailey. He doesn’t list himself as in a relationship on any of his social media profiles, but that doesn’t mean anything. Aside from the most basic information, he doesn’t put much out there. Not judging. I’m the same. Never can be too careful these days. At the very least, I’ve learned his last name is not in fact Bee. The gimmick is still cute, anyway.
“Watch the stand for a minute. I’ll be right back,” Jesse says as he’s walking away.
Yep. You can count on me. The market will be over in less than ten minutes anyway, so foot traffic has already dwindled significantly. As soon as Jess is out of sight, I’ve got my phone out and lowered enough to be obscured by the table in front of me.
Purple Puppy: I’m hanging out with my friend right after work, so I may not get to call tonight.
I include the biggest frown emoji available.
Orchid Mantis: Get back to work.
Sent with a sassy wink.
Purple Puppy: How do you know I’m at work?
Orchid Mantis: You told me yesterday that you had work in the morning.
Purple Puppy: Maybe I’m done for the day.
I grin at my screen. Teasing him is fun.
Orchid Mantis: You’re not.
My skin prickles with that sense of being watched, but there aren’t any customers waiting when I glance up from my screen.
Orchid Mantis: You already told me you’re hanging out with your friend right after work. Therefore, you must still be at work.
Purple Puppy: …or I could be home and waiting for him to get here.
Orchid Mantis: No.
Orchid Mantis: You’re not.
Purple Puppy: And how would you know? Are you spying on me?
Orchid Mantis: If you had so much as five free minutes, you’d be calling me.
Well, he’s got me there. Fuck a duck, does he know me.
Orchid Mantis: Go be the responsible adult you’re trying to become, and I’ll be doing the same. I’ll message you later.
I smile at my screen and put the phone back in the pocket of my jeans. Do I ever have great timing, too. Jess returns within minutes while I’m responsibly packing everything that needs to be loaded back into the truck.
“Are we still on for tonight?” Jesse asks once I’m within earshot.
“Yeah, of course.” I smile right at him. “Best coworker and friend ever.”
Jesse smiles back and gets to work alongside me.
Really doesn’t take much to keep Jess happy, which is what I like so much about him. The man may not grasp the concept of romance, but at least he recognizes appreciation, and he’s always grateful.
A couple of hours later, everything’s done back at the farm and we’re finally at my place. We’re going to have a binge marathon: a season of a show, a case of cheap beer, and a large pizza. Neither of us have work tomorrow since our boss always gives us Monday off to compensate for time and half on Sunday while working the farmer’s market ourselves. Jess and I have been working for him long enough that he trusts us to get a job done without micromanaging. Plus, he’s getting kinda up there in age and starting the slow process of leaving the business to Cheryl.
“Oh, please, no.” Jesse cringes at my selection. “Not makeup. I can’t watch that for a whole evening.”
“Yes, you can. And it’s not makeup, it’s an SFX makeup competition. The kind people do in movies and stuff.”
And really, he shouldn’t complain when I could’ve picked something much worse. He’s well aware that I have only one interest when it comes to television, and that’s competition shows. Not quite game shows where the contestants are pitted against each other, but the kind where the contestants have to display their skills to win: baking, tattooing, or even forging weapons. Jess shouldn’t whine about something as cool as special effects makeup when I got him to watch an entire season of a modeling competition with me the last time he came over. He bitched the whole first episode, but by the finale he was yelling at the judges for sending home his favorite contestant.
So, we’ve got eight episodes, about forty-five minutes each, and likely enough pizza and beer to last us the six hours we’re about to kill on my couch. Let the binge begin.
The second to last episode, the challenge is anthropomorphic bugs. Jess and I both have our pick of who we’re hoping to make it to the finals. He’s rooting for the guy making a firefly, which I will admit looks ambitious and impressive. My favorite contestant is a lady recreating a cockroach. I kinda admire how she chose something common and ugly—while simultaneously terrifying at this scale.
The other two each pick something elegant: a dragonfly and a mantis. Admittedly, the mantis stands out to me. I don’t live under a rock. I know what a praying mantis is. Never have I seen the orchid variety, which somehow appears floral—a perfect mimicry of something beautiful. And that gets me thinking about Mantis, to the point I’m not focusing on the screen anymore. Jess notices.
“Is it weird I almost feel bad for not calling Mantis tonight? Like I’m standing him up or something.” I’m half speaking my thoughts aloud and half asking Jesse’s opinion.
Jesse mutters something mostly to himself.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles.
More and more, I’ve noticed this when I bring Mantis up in conversation. I can’t tell if he’s sick of hearing about him or what. Even when I recounted to Jess what happened last night, it’s not like I went over it in graphic detail. Maybe he’s not used to it since I haven’t dated many guys since we became friends, or maybe someone has some latent homophobia to unpack. Really hoping that’s not the case, though.
“If he’s as great a guy as you say he is, then he’ll understand you’re with your friend,” Jesse says instead.
“He is great.” I give him a sweet smile. “He reminds me a lot of you in some ways.”
“Only he’s romantic .” His tone is all mocking, and he rolls his eyes.
“Well, yeah, that and… into guys.”
Jesse crosses his arms while he keeps his eyes forward, facing the television. His jaw ticks and he sounds more annoyed than ever when he says, “Who said I wasn’t?”
Uh… what? My thoughts come to an end like a needle scratch and I whip my head over to stare right at him.
“Did I ever say I was straight, or did you just assume I was?”
Maybe it’s the beer, but I can’t remember if he did or didn’t. “No, but you… you dated the girl who quit before I got hired. You told me yourself.”
“And before her, I was still trying to make long distance work with my boyfriend from college. Thanks for the bi erasure.”
“No.” I don’t mean to scoff, but… he’s not being funny right now. “Quit fucking with me.”
Jess grabs hold of my shirt and pulls me closer, bringing his lips to mine—not in a peck, but an actual kiss. One where his tongue invades my mouth, and he ends up taking my bottom lip into his teeth. Despite the heat between us, I suspect he’s trying to make a point more than anything else. And I’m already horny. Making out with me is only going to make me hornier. This feels more like gay chicken, except I know I’ll win and I’m going to be pissed when I do.
The second Jess pulls away, I shove his head down toward my lap. Jess drops his whole body lower onto the couch and starts undoing my jeans for me. Once my cock is in his mouth, I’m starting to believe no one wants to win that badly—not if they’re straight. I lift my hips and pry him back up so I can lean forward and push my pants all the way down my legs. Then we’re both tugging our shirts over our heads, but I go back to yank his pants off him, too. Jess turns and leans back into the arm of the couch so I can peel his unzipped jeans down his hips and toward me.
“Let me see how hard you really are,” I whisper right before freeing his cock. Once again, almost to myself, while still asking him.
And the answer is incredibly hard. Fuck, my best friend has a nice cock, too. Jess melts further back into the couch from passion, but I want him closer to me. I pull him up and turn him to face the back of the couch, then kneel right behind him instead. We can both hold the back for support while upright but for now I’ve got his hips while grinding against his ass and he twists his upper body enough to kiss me the entire time. My precum leaves him slick enough to pop my fingers in and he gasps against my mouth. Not taking my time and not fucking around.
“I bet you can take my cock, yeah?” His hole clenches tighter around my fingers at the mere mention, and that gets me to pant hard right in his ear. “You can do that for me. Can’t you, Jess?”
Jess nods slightly and I don’t really give him a chance to respond more or less than that. I spit on my hand and that’s all he’s getting before I shove my cock all the way inside him.
“Fucking asshole,” he chokes out.
Actually, yes, I am about to do that. Instead of being cheeky, I shush him and start to thrust. “You can do it. You’re already doing it, Jess.”
He makes the choked sound again, but his cock is fucking dripping when I reach a hand around to jerk him off for encouragement.
“You’re so tight, Jess,” I murmur right into his ear. “And I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you.”
His body trembles against mine once I’m slamming into him. Oh, he is going to fucking feel this tomorrow. I’m making sure of it.
“Will…”
His voice breaks when he says my name, so I switch my focus to stroking the length of his cock more and shallow thrusting. It’s not long before I can hear and feel him approaching climax. As soon as his cock pulses, I stop holding back. I’m fucking him hard and using his orgasm to help him ignore any pain. After he comes, he has nothing. This also happens to be the part my fucked-up brain enjoys most. The whines. The whimpers. The weeping.
“Almost done. I’m so close, Jess.”
And with a few more rough strokes in him, he’s gotten me there. Once I’m done, I ease my wet cock out of him but stay close.
He’s still shaking, and he hasn’t said anything.
“You did such a good job. Thank you,” I whisper, running my hands up and down his arms. See? Not a complete asshole. I get the concept of aftercare. Not to mention, I know he enjoyed himself and I don’t hesitate to remind him. “You came so hard for me, Jess.”
“I… did.” And he almost sounds surprised by that fact.
As for me? Not so much. Usually, I can spot guys like him a mile away—which was why it disappointed me all the more when I thought I’d never get a chance to fuck him.
“What do you need now? You wanna shower with me and we can go to bed?” I nuzzle my face closer and kiss his neck once very sweetly.
Jesse nods again. When he sighs this time, he sounds relieved, and the tension leaves his body.
“Okay. You can stay overnight, and I’ll take good care of you.”
I slide back off the couch and he slowly moves to follow me when I take his hand. The walk to my bathroom isn’t very far and my bedroom is even closer. We get in the shower together under the scalding water and he goes ahead and has a little emotional breakdown.
“I’ve liked you for a really long time, Will.” Not sobbing, but pretty damn close, with a raspy and shaky voice that matches his shivery body.
I run a hand through his dampening hair before leaning closer to kiss him. He goes right back to melty for me as soon as I do. Ooey-gooey trust beneath my hands until he’s nothing but relaxed mush. Then I get us both cleaned up like the responsible guy I am, wrap him up tight in a towel so he won’t get cold, and rub his hair mostly dry before bringing him into my bedroom. Loaning someone a pair of my clean underwear may seem gross, but I’ve decided it’s significantly less gross when you’ve fucked said person. We get all bedded down, and since I am such the nicest guy, I snuggle him real close under my weighted blanket while I play with his hair. He conks out within minutes.
The following morning, Jess wakes me by stirring next to me under the covers. The sun’s hardly up, but he’s used to waking even earlier, I’m sure. I don’t feel amazing, but I paced my drinking enough that I’m mostly okay. When I open my eyes, Jess hasn’t moved away by an inch, and I smile right at him. Probably should not have fucked Jess. He’s a nice guy. A little too nice, even. And I feel somewhat dense for not realizing he was head-over-heels for me, since I definitely would’ve refrained from any sex last night had I known sooner.
He smiles back and looks at me as if he wants to talk to me.
I bring my face to his for a lazy, tender, morning kiss. Jess rolls right onto his back with the gentlest push, where I can trap him under me. His breaths quicken while I kiss down his body and he’s rock hard by the time I grab the band of the underwear and pull down. He looks at me again, almost as if he’s wondering what I’m going to do next. I lock my eyes on his for a few seconds before I gulp that nice cock of his all the way down my throat. Jess suddenly becomes too distracted moaning to speak, and I’m yet again amazed at how inventive I can be to avoid a conversation I don’t want to have.