Page 68 of Encounter

There was this tender, warm feeling settling on the bottom of my chest.

The late hour of the night made the atmosphere different—made it somewhat sensual, or maybe that was just my sexually frustrated subconsciousness fucking me over. I ignored it as much as I could and sat next to Galen on the couch. The TV was already on, and he grabbed the remote, switching between the channels.

“Do you feel better?” he asked carefully, glancing at me while I stared at him, completely fascinated by the way he seemed so confident and at home. Usually, he would ask me about every little stupid thing. ‘Can I turn the volume up? Can I change the channel? Can I turn it down? Can I get some water?’ Always with a face that told me he thought every single action of his somehow inconvenienced me.

“Like brand new,” I quipped.

I thought about how lonely he must have felt to rather comehere, no matter his fear and anxiety, rather than going home to his sad, golden cage. If spending time with me, like this, was his way to deal... I was more than happy to help. Our situations might have been very different, but I understood him. I understood the need to feel safe, and how hard it was when that safe place was not one’s home.

“What did you do today then?” I asked curiously, after a while of peaceful silence.

A lively spark came alive in his eyes, surprising me. “My friend and I went to a club.”

“Whoa whoa—what was that?” I blurted out the second I saw it flash over his face.

Galen, Galen, Galen... I knew there was more to you.

“What?” he asked, clueless.

Filled with a rush of excitement, like I was living through him, I turned my body toward him and rested my head against my arm, not too far from his head. “That lil’ grin! Did you get together with some guy or somethin’?” I asked enthusiastically, with a devilish grin on my face.

The shyness quickly came back—and I was almost happy to see it, finding it endearing by that point. Fidgeting with the remote, Galen looked away and gulped. “No, I didn’t, I— I went for a drink with a girl from my school. She’s probably my only... real friend. We were dancing for a while, but mostly sat in the corner like losers,” he scoffed.

“Huh.” Disappointed, I tilted my head further and frowned. “She hot?”

It escaped through my lips before being OK-d by my brain like I was some horny teenager. Women seemed to be all I could think about these days, and as I sat there next to Galen in the stupid towel, I started to regret not calling Larissa in earlier today for a special visit.

Hell... Not just women. Anything. Anyone.

“No! I mean—” Galen mumbled, looking like I made his pretty little gay brain short-circuit.It was a weird-ass question, I admit.“I guess she is?”

I couldn’t help but smile, seeing him all flustered. He didn’t really seem drunk-drunk, though he probably had some in him. If anything though, I was the one who felt under the influence. “AmIhot?” I asked in a soft, sensual tone, and as I parted my lips with my tongue, Galen turned to me like I spoke gibberish.

Our eyes met, and the poor kid looked as if his heart was about to halt.Should I stop this before it goes too far? Why can’t I pull away?

I expected anything as a response to that needy, carelessly blunt question. I expected him to escape my gaze, to start stuttering and asking me why. But... he didn’t.

Oh, you really need to look away, Galen. Or else I might—

“What if you are?” His words were barely audible and shaky, but at the same time, there was something powerful about them, about him right in that moment. He was brazen. For the first time ever, he really was. “I mean, youknowyou are. Am... Am I?”

When he asked—even with his voice overshadowed by fear—it made my cock twitch and muscles constrict.

Dammit. He definitelyisdrunk. A question like this...

The longer our gaze lasted, the more it felt like we were bleeding into each other. My ribs ached as my heart picked up speed, pounding against my naked chest. The person I saw in front of me quickly became my sole focus. The little details and imperfections of him, the smell of his shampoo, the cute, wild curls of his hair.

Instead of giving him an answer, I surrendered and finally let my body do what it compelled me to do ever since I sat on that couch next to him. Breaking our eye contact, I focused on my hand, smoothly moving toward his crotch. The moment my fingers met his thigh, he shuddered, but he didn’t move away.

All I heard were his breaths speeding up. Hungry and desperate, my hand pushed against the fabric of his skinny jeans, wishing he wore those loose shorts again—the ones that would let me grab him fast and tight, and allow me to feel his flesh against my skin.

Even though my cock was about to completely take control of my mind, something stopped me. A fading sensation—the feeling of those thin, barely lifted scars on Galen’s thigh grazing against my hand as I jerked him off that day in the gym.

I froze and withdrew my hand, to his audible dissatisfaction.

I’m supposed to be helping him. Someone like Galen... someone as meek as him— I shouldn’t be doing this.

Standing up sharply, I avoided his confused gaze and walked toward the balcony door to calm myself.

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