Page 36 of Dare to be Different

“I’m hooked on your shit too, Rem.”

Okay, we’re going to be fine.

Two hours and a bunch of whiskey later, we’re rummaging through the kitchen in search of snacks. We’re plastered, but Remy shook his head at me a lot, and that cost his stomach over half a bottle of cheap whiskey, so of course, I matched him drink for drink. At least we’re getting along again.

He finds a bag of chips and a box of unopened cereal, and I find a bag of mixed nuts. Good enough. On our way back to the room, we both pause at the thermostat. We’re bundled up in layers, wearing two pairs of socks each, still chilly despite the whiskey, and the thermostat says ‘don’t touch’ in big red letters written on a sticky note.

He looks at me, and I look at him. We touch. We crank that shit up so high that an hour later, we’re peeling off layers and going barefoot.

With our snacks scattered everywhere and the single bed we’re on littered with chip crumbs, I answer his question about what we’re gonna get up to next. “I say an orgy. Really branch out, you know?”

“Yeah?” he asks, laughing. “You finally gonna fuck a guy?”

I narrow my eyes at him for calling me out on my claim of not having any limits. Okay, so I’m open, sure, but I haven’t figured out the specifics with a guy yet. The vibe hasn’t been right and… whatever. Fuck him! “It’s not like I plan that shit. If it happens, it happens.” Though, one guy in particular has been circling the drain of my mind, refusing to go down and give me any relief.

“I’m so drunk and desperate right now, I’d fuck a dude,” Remy says. “Still want me to blindfold and blow ya?” He grins, his cheeks flushed.

Well, goddammit, now my cheeks are flushed from more than the whiskey. And my dick might also be flushed. Flushed right out of the hole in my boxers, pressing against the front of my sweats, begging for what he’s offering. My mind knows he’s joking, but my cock doesn’t.

I groan. “Don’t say that shit when we’re here alone with hard dicks and cheap whiskey.”

“Why not?” He winks terribly, setting aside the snacks for more booze. Good idea. He pours us each a little more, waiting for me to answer.

“Because. Because I can’t control what my head conjures up, and now I’m thinking about it.” Probably shouldn’t admit that, so to steer clear of any awkwardness, I add, “About that night. I’m thinking about that night again.”

“The blowjob again?” he asks.

“The blowjob,” I confirm. The whole weekend was sensual and fun, but that blowie was… no words.

“I don’t get it,” he says, trying to sit up a bit more, but he ends up leaning weirdly and slouching a lot. So uncoordinated. “What was so good about it?”

I smirk into my drink. “You’re gonna mock my answer.”

“I mock you daily. Just tell me.”

“Fuck, alright. It was like… I dunno. You know when you see someone and you just know you're gonna have a good time? Like, it’s a feeling you get based on the way your energies mix together? Do you know what I mean? I’m way too drunk to explain this shit.”

“Like instinct,” he says.

“Yes! Like an instinct. But with sex. Or a sexual connection or something. Like, as soon as that mouth was on me, it was instinctual for me to just… feel it. Everything about it. So much shit was happening, but the second that tongue touched me, all my senses went there. I was fine-tuned to it, fixated on it, and blew up because of it. It made me wild, and I’ve never felt that level of wild before. For all I know, it could have been the world’s shittiest blowjob, but holy fuck, it lit some shit up inside me.” I look at him to see if he’s going to mock me.

“Why do you think that happened?” he asked.

“Chemistry.” I shrug. “With whoever it was. So just tell me.” I smirk at him.

He shakes his head. Takes a drink all on his own without me having to tell him to.

The bottle is empty, so I get up to grab another one. “Please.”

“You won’t wanna know,” he mumbles. “Trust me. You’ll be pissed once the mystery of it is gone. It’s the not knowing that you thrive on.” He holds out his hand for the bottle, but I pull it back.

“Are you trying to keep my fantasy alive by denying me the answer?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, looking away from me. When I yank the bottle back again, he pouts, but it’s an angry pout with a scowl and everything. “Fucking give it to me, Zahn.”

“Mmm, give what to you?” I tease.

He turns away from me and shakes his head.

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