27. Jordan #2
When I rolled Orion onto his back, something happened to me.
Something cracked. Something in my chest opened and poured out of me and into him.
Whatever it was, I could have sworn the same thing poured from Orion to me.
I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like a whole other world exists that I had no idea about.
A world that’s been there all along, close but fractionally out of reach.
Every time I thrust into him, it got stronger. By the time I came, I hardly knew where I was anymore. All that existed was Orion. Orion as he looks to me and Orion as he looks to guys who are attracted to men.
As he writhed on my dick, those two things merged into one.
I look back at our table and see Thomas leaning down to say something to Orion.
Orion has his head turned away from him fractionally, and there’s a slight tension in his shoulders that lets me know he’s uncomfortable.
I push my way out of the line hurriedly and get to our table in time to hear Thomas say, “If you’re looking for a Daddy, baby, I’m your guy. ”
A sea of green singes the periphery of my field of vision. Bright green. Electric green with lashings of crimson in it. The color swirls, tightening and swimming inward until the only thing I can make out clearly is Orion.
My hand darts out of its own accord, palm connecting solidly with Thomas’s sternum and shoving him back at least two paces. “Fuck off, asshole. I’m his Daddy.”
Thomas retreats with a stammered apology and a distinctly bewildered line between his brows. Orion gapes at me, opening and closing his mouth without letting a sound out.
I’d be angrier about the Thomas situation and more worried about how Orion is looking at me, if not for the fact that a distinctive face I know has just sailed into Dorothy’s.
Iver Deacon.
Iver is Summer’s cousin. He's an unusual guy. Super quiet and a little hard to get to know as a result, but he’s definitely someone we know well enough that we go out of our way to greet him if we run into him.
It’s a fucking disaster.
In all my panic about Andy, I forgot to worry about Iver.
It didn’t even occur to me because he’s not in our immediate friend group.
But Orion definitely knows him, and believe me, Iver is a major threat to anyone with a vague interest in penises.
It doesn’t even really matter which way your dick normally swings.
Iver is so striking that even without his body or his hair, his face alone is enough to sexually confuse the crap out of anyone.
He’s one of those guys who looks masculine one second and eye-wateringly soft the next.
On top of that, he’s incredibly musical, has a quirky sense of personal style Orion has referred to as interesting on at least one occasion, and he’s all mysterious and shit because he never speaks to anyone other than Summer.
Ugh.
I hate it here.
I want to go home.
I corral Orion to the left a little to ensure he has his back to Iver and make a concerted effort to keep his attention on me. Fortunately, he doesn’t notice what I’m up to because he’s so busy laying into me for how I treated Thomas.
“…I mean, what the fuck, bruh? What even was that? You pushed the guy for no reason?”
I don’t answer because I don’t know what it was either, and I’m not at all proud of what I suspect it might have been. I do know that I want to get out of here, and fast. “D’you mind if we dip? I’m not really feeling it.”
Orion blasts a huff of annoyance through his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t be into it. I told you, didn’t I? Didn’t I say a gay club wouldn’t be for you?”
“I’m plenty into it,” I correct firmly. “The lights are getting to me. You know how I get sometimes. Overstimulated, or whatever. It’s the flashing and all the colors. It’s too much.”
“Hm,” Orion says noncommittally. There’s a little glint in his eye that I recognize as a precursor to taking the piss out of me. “I dunno, bud. I think you might be a bit of a shitty wingman.”
A shitty wingman? I’m a great fucking wingman. I mean, technically, yes, tonight hasn’t been my best performance, but any other time, I’m straight up amazing at getting my bros laid.
“Look, a wingman’s responsibilities are a little more complicated than you might think, okay, Orion? You’re simplifying incredibly nuanced things here, and that’s what’s erroneously led you to that conclusion. But you’re dead wrong.”
“Right. Nuanced. Is that what they’re calling it now?” He scoffs under his breath. “And don’t say words like erroneous when we’re out. You can’t pull it off.”
I hold my hands up in submission. I don’t want to argue with Orion, and he’s right about me saying erroneous. I shouldn’t have done it. Especially not in a nightclub. It doesn’t match the vibe. I’m not ready to admit I was wrong about Thomas though. Because I wasn’t wrong about him.
“I made a call based on a detailed analysis of the situation, and I stand by it. Thomas was an obvious dick, and you can do better.”
“Thanks, I guess,” he says as I guide him out of Dorothy’s, taking an inordinate amount of care to avoid Iver.
Orion taps at the screen of his phone and orders a ride home for us as soon as we get outside. We stand on the curb, breathing in fresh night air and staring down the street. We look for our car in silence, though the app reliably informs us it’s a good five minutes away.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask when curiosity gets the better of me.
Orion looks up at the sky for several seconds and expels a long breath. “No, Jordan, I do not have a Daddy kink.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.”
It totally was, so I’m left scrambling to think of a new question.
I’m drawing a catastrophic blank and panicking because Orion is looking at me in a no-nonsense way that demands I say something, and fast. In the history of being me, no good has ever come from what my brain chooses to spit out in moments like this.
Tonight is no different. If anything, it’s a new low point for me.
“Do you…? Did you…? Have you ever, like, had a crush on me, or whatever?”