Page 36 of Felix

Christian hums. “Won’t know unless you try.”

Guess so. But trying is the scary part.

“Want to watch some TV?” Christian asks, popping up.

“Uh, what?” I say, thrown.

“TV,” he repeats, shooting me a grin as he walks over to my couch. He sprawls out on top of the cushions, laying his head in his hand and making himself at home. “We’re on the fifth episode of Life. Have you watched it yet?”

It takes me a second to answer him. “You…you want to watch it together?”

“Yeah, Specs,” he says, his smile making my pulse accelerate. He pats the cushion in front of him. “If you want to.”

Slowly, I get to my feet and walk his way. “You’re nearly too tall for my couch,” I mumble.

“I’ll manage,” he says, scooting back so there’s room for me in front of him.

Heart pounding, I sit down, hoping Christian doesn’t notice how awkward I feel. “You, uh, really like David Attenborough, huh?” I say, grabbing the remote.

“The man could narrate my shopping list, and I’d eat it up,” he says, making me laugh.

I start episode five of the nature documentary and set the remote down, having no clue what to do with my arms. I end up resting them on my knees.

I have never in my life been so hyperaware of my own body. My limbs feel too big. My breaths loud. Why am I so nervous? This man has seen me shove a tentacle up my ass.

“Specs,” Christian says softly, startling me as his hand winds around my waist. I tense, and he freezes. “Sorry, I—”

“No!” I blurt before he can let go. “No, it’s fine. I, uh…” What did he say to me that one time? “You have my permission to touch.”

I nearly cringe, but Christian just chuckles, his fingers planting more firmly against my stomach. “Come here,” he says.

When I don’t move, not sure what he means, Christian gives me a little tug. My back meets his stomach, and then he tugs again, guiding me to lie down in front of him. I let him mold me like clay until we’re all but connected from chest to crotch. When he gives my top leg a shove and fits his own over mine, locking us together like puzzle pieces, I let loose a breath.

Christian’s hand returns to my stomach, fingers resting over my shirt. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say on an exhale, my voice quiet.

“Okay,” he repeats.

Slowly but surely, my tension starts to unwind.

Yeah, this is okay. Kinda nice, actually. Weird but good.

Before long, my head is in the crook of my elbow and my breathing has evened out. Christian is a warm presence behind me, and for a while, I forget about studying. I forget about reading and the papers I have to write. I watch one of my favorite shows with someone who’s quickly becoming one of my favorite people.

And I let myself simply…relax.

“Emil. Emil. Hello?”

Rebecca’s waving hand has me jolting back to awareness.

“Shit, sorry. What’d you say?” I ask, adjusting my glasses.

She looks at me curiously. “You were just completely zoned out. What were you thinking about?”

“Uh…”

The memory of my neighbor’s hand and how, when I jerked off this morning and caught him watching from his window, I imagined it was his fist wrapped around my cock instead?

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