Chapter 2 #3
There was a gratifyingly long list of them, in fact. But most of them were the exact same. Some variation of, “You’re superhot, let’s hook up.”
A few of the senders might have intrigued him, though he was sure most of them were using either a touched-up pic or a fake one, but the complete lack of imagination was a boner killer.
Ren skimmed through the list and then back up again, only to suddenly realize that someone had sent him a message accusing him—to his face—of using a picture that wasn’t his.
“Okay,” Ren said out loud, “I’ll bite.”
It might be insulting, but it was at least slightly more imaginative than all the ridiculous messages telling him how hot he was.
Of course, Ren knew whoever the guy was, he’d done it on purpose. Which meant he was smart.
There was a reason a lot of guys used the apps. Usually it was because they were shy or not great in person or worse, it was because they were dumb.
And dumb guys always thought they were great in bed—but never were.
Ren stared at the message, and then clicked over to the guy’s profile pic.
Unlike everyone else who’d slobbered all over him, he wasn’t showing his face—or any other muscley features—in his profile picture, and his description was also vague.
He was in security, and it seemed he liked art.
That was all the profile gave away, though the fact that he liked Picasso, based on the picture visible behind him, was interesting.
Intriguing enough that Ren decided what the hell, he was bored and he was a little bit lonely and a lot horny, and nobody else was doing it for him. What did it say about him that the only time he’d even been remotely intrigued, he’d needed to be insulted first?
Gabe would probably tell him, in painful detail if he was here, but he wasn’t.
Maybe I’m really just this hot, Ren typed back.
The guy, PICMAN1881, replied almost immediately.
You got photoshop to go with that ego?
Ren’s mouth fell open. Okay, he was hot. Every single guy who’d messaged him on this app said so. Customers at the truck said it all the time, staring at him like they couldn’t quite believe he was real, and serving them a meatball sandwich. Ren’s mirror said it, frequently.
This guy was just an asshole. An intriguing asshole, but an asshole.
Just as Ren was about to click out of the screen and find somebody else—anybody else—PICMAN1881 sent him another message.
You must get really tired of people telling you that you’re gorgeous all the time. I bet you that nobody ever says you’ve got a really good personality.
In fact, Ren was tired of only being seen as a pretty face.
It was annoying and frustrating, because he thought his personality wasn’t half bad.
But who was ever going to pay attention to that when they could tell him how hot he was?
You’re not wrong, he typed back. I thought you were in security, not psychotherapy. How’d you guess?
I like to think I know people pretty well. Long history of needing to analyze them before they hurt someone I’m trying to protect.
Ren did not want to be intrigued.
He wanted to tell the guy, hey, let’s meet up and fuck, but there was something about the bald honesty there that he found refreshing.
So your weakness is clearly anger management, Ren guessed. Ex-military?
I knew you’d be interesting.
Ren, who was used to compliments being flung his direction multiple times a day, actually enjoyed this one.
People never expected him to be interesting. Just beautiful.
Let me guess, PICMAN1881 (which Ren found ironic, considering that he had no real profile picture, no way to confirm that he was good looking at all) replied, yours is vanity.
And stubbornness, Ren said. Bet you guessed that one too.
Actually no, that one you surprised me with.
Ren decided that he didn’t care if he was hot or not. He was interesting, and he found Ren interesting.
He was going to absolutely fucking sleep with him. Even if he was ugly.
If I was really vain, I’d put up a pic of Timothée Chalamet and hope nobody would notice. So, that’s character development, right?
PICMAN didn’t waste a moment. Is that your type, then? Timmy?
Who was his type?
He could be honest and say that all kinds were his type. That he’d never cared much before.
But in this moment, he discovered that he cared what kind of guy he slept with next.
It was going to have to be someone spectacular, someone who got all his blood flowing, and not because they were hotter than the sun.
It was going to have to be because he felt that same zing, the one he’d felt with Seth, except stronger. Because nothing else was going to help him forget that guy, except the fuck of a goddamned century.
Doesn’t matter what they look like, Ren wrote. But I want someone who doesn’t bore me. Someone who’s got a brain and knows how to use it. And not just in bed.
Ren stared at the words, thumb hovering over the send button.
Not just in bed? Had he just typed that? Did he believe that?
Well, shit, he thought he might.
It wasn’t that he wanted to date. It wasn’t that he wanted a relationship. But he wanted more than a six-pack and a pair of great biceps, more than a guy who knew how to suck cock.
Maybe he might want to actually talk to the guy and not be bored to tears.
He hit the send button. And for a long second, proceeded to freak the fuck out.
So, PICMAN said, you want to have fun in the sheets and outside of them, too. Just what everyone wants: the holy grail of someone you can actually give a shit about.
Ren laughed. He’d never talked this much on any other foray onto any other app—and he’d tried them all. He’d looked at the profile pic, and decided, almost immediately, whether he was interested or not. But then he’d never had this much fun just talking before either.
Is that what you want?
Suddenly it occurred to Ren that all this talking might be because this guy had certain expectations. Expectations of things that Ren didn’t do.
But when he clicked onto the guy’s profile, he hadn’t filled out any of the “Looking for” section.
I thought I wanted one thing, but I’m trying to shift my expectations, PICMAN finally wrote back, so yeah, what you said sounds good. I think I could use some more fun in my life.
It was the perfect opening for Ren to say, “Hey, let’s meet up tomorrow night for a drink.”
He almost did it.
The Ren of six months ago never would’ve hesitated.
But this time, he didn’t.
It sounds like you could, Ren said instead. You think you spend so much time protecting people, it feels like second nature to protect yourself?
It was the polar opposite of what Ren would have normally said.
He’d normally have gone super flirty.
Well, normally, he’d have already asked to meet up with this guy.
But something about doing that, just for sex, felt wrong.
This guy was interesting. Maybe he deserved for Ren to work a little harder.
You’re definitely way more perceptive than your profile pic suggests. And you might be right? Who knows. I have been single for a long time.
Ren leaned back on the couch, humming to himself thoughtfully. Single a long time, huh? Maybe this guy was just out of the military.
He was reminded, annoyingly, of Seth.
Was he just trying to recreate that situation, with a different ending? An ending that didn’t frustrate the shit out of him?
Ren couldn’t discount that, but then this already felt different. Like this time they’d gotten started on the right foot instead of the wrong one.
So what if they’d both been military? So what if they both worked in private security? Ren wasn’t going to give up on the most intriguing guy he’d met in ages, just because he happened to have a few things in common with Seth.
In fact, he wasn’t going to think about Seth. At all. Period.
You know, that’s the kind of shit you’re not supposed to confess on this app. But yeah, I’m single too. Out of choice. Not much for serious relationships. Or, uh, relationships at all, actually.
PICMAN replied almost immediately, wasting no time at all.
Ren found he liked the lack of game playing more than he thought he would, even though he’d once done it right along with the other guys he’d met.
I’m going to be shitty at this, PICMAN said, so I guess we should get that out of the way now.
Anger management and shitty at apps. Wow, it’s no wonder you’ve been single so long, Ren teased back.
Looks like I’ve got pretty good taste, though.
Ren felt the zing all the way up his spine.
Oh, he liked this guy. Liked him enough that he hoped he might talk to him again.
Better at this than you think, Ren replied.
I’ll take that as a compliment, PICMAN said, as long as you promise not to ghost me.
That was an easy enough request. Ren didn’t want to stop talking to the guy; and he was clearly right there on the same damn page.
No ghosting around here.
Ren realized, unexpectedly, that it was much later than he’d realized. He needed to get to bed, no matter how much he wanted to stay up all night chatting with this guy.
And I’ve got to get to bed, actually, since I’ve got an early day tomorrow, Ren typed, but I hope you remember the no-ghosting rule. Don’t stay a stranger.